


Do You Feel That Spark?

by ChildofMyth



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: (just that M'ma hadn't figured his identity out yet all the way), (she did have an inkling though), Blood and Injury, Electrocution, F/M, Fenton is such a good boy and i love him okay, Gandra Dee headcanons, M'ma's name is Gloria, Minor Surgery, Minor canon divergence, Property Destruction, Semi-Slow Burn, Written before s2 finale, as best as i can, but like only cause im fucking impatient, fuck Mark Beaks and fuck everything Waddle, hhhhHHHHH, how did this happen, incorporations will be made, liberties will be taken when i comes to some of Gandra's personality, make-out fake-out, new ship: acquired, nothing too bad or detailed, spoilers for The Dangerous Chemistry of Gandra Dee, the electrocution is non-lethal dont worry, this was supposed to just be a oneshot, though I will stay true to what weve witnessed thus far
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:12:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19045729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChildofMyth/pseuds/ChildofMyth
Summary: "Gandra?" He whispered finally, shocked and confused. That was when the ringing fell silent and Fenton startled, unlocking the screen to try and call her back before noticing his notifications.7 missed calls, 14 new messages.Something was wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

"Nnnmph..." The soft groan was the only sound that filled the room, other than the electronic ringing from his phone that prompted the groan in the first place. 

 

A hand emerged from under thick blankets, pawing blindly across the side table until finally finding purchase with the noisy device. Success!

 

Fenton pulled the blankets away from his face, blinking blearily at the bright. electronic blue light. The name was still hard to read, but something about the shape of it prompted him to sit up and try harder to clear his gaze.

 

His sight cleared and he stared at the Caller ID.

 

"Gandra?" He whispered finally, shocked and confused. That was when the ringing fell silent and Fenton startled, unlocking the screen to try and call her back before noticing his notifications. 7 missed calls, 14 new messages. His eyes slid to the corner of the screen.

 

3:47 AM

 

Then, before he could move again, her name was on the screen, followed by his ringtone. She was calling him again.

 

' _ I shouldn't answer _ ' was his first thought. ' _ She lied to me, played with my emotions and put children in danger, in the sights of Mark Beaks of all people! She doesn't deserve to have me pick up at 3 AM. _ ' Still though, Fenton's thumb hovered over the button that would silence his phone, hesitating. ' _... She helped me take out Beaks though. And helped stabilize my formula. _ ’ 

 

Did that fix what she had broken before?

 

Fenton shook his head, running a hand through his feathery hair and clearing the last vestiges of drowsiness from his brain. What was he thinking? Regardless of all of that, Gandra was clearly trying desperately to get a hold of him! Something was wrong.

 

With that last realization, he hit answer.

 

"Gandra, it's a little early to be calling for a second date." Were the first words out of his beak, and while he hadn't meant to sound quite so harsh, she had woken him up after finally getting to shut his brain up long enough to fall asleep.

 

The harshness left his tone at the sound of her weak voice.

 

"Heh... Hey Suit, sorry I called you lots, 'ts not really like me... Not the clingy girlfriend type, trus' me..." Her voice was strangely labored, and soft. Fenton was holding his breath to make sure he could even hear her clearly through the receiver. He was pushing down waves of panic.

 

"Gandra? W-what's the matter, why do you--" He was cut off by the sudden loud vocalization from her, a strained cry that failed to stay contained behind clenched teeth.

 

Fenton was on his feet in an instant, tearing off his sleepwear and replacing it with a yellow shirt and a light jacket. "Where are you, what's wrong?" He asked, more forceful this time as his mind ran a mile a minute through every possible scenario. "Do you need Gizmodu--?" Fenton snapped his beak shut.

 

Could this all be just another trap?

 

Gandra's voice cut through his thoughts.

 

"No, no I-- nn... I'm sorry I just, I know we aren't really--, just..." Her voice was strained further as she tried to find the right words. The uncertainty there is what kept Fenton quiet. "I don't need Gizmoduck, I- I need you, the scientist, I--... I didn't know who else to call... I need help and you're the only one smart enough to help me..."

 

Fenton stared across his room, not focused on anything but the sound of the voice through the receiver. He could hear her panting softly now, he could imagine the way her face screwed up as she spoke those words. He could imagine a thousand scenarios of what went wrong, or how this could be another trap.

 

He was careful to slip from his house silently, not disturbing M'má in the least.

 

"Send me your location."

 

-

 

The Gizmosuit was still in his room, safely tucked away in his duffel bag, so instead he biked to the location she texted his phone, abandoning the bike at the entrance to a seedy alleyway. He raced down it without hesitation, squinting in the low light.

 

He stopped, and double checked with his phone. This was the place, so where was she? Or would he encounter Beaks here tonight?

 

"S.. Suit..." came the weak croak, and Fenton felt his heart skip a beat in fear, whipping around to the shadow of the dumpster. There was a shape there, if you looked close enough, a shape similar to someone curled in the fetal position. He rushed to her side and watched as she curled into her own body even tighter, shivering all over. Still, he heard her chuckle at his approach, the sound dishearteningly sluggish.

 

"Quick even without your souped up unicycle, huh?" She breathed, a whimper rounding out the end of her sentence. Fenton was on his knees at the sound, hands hovering over her body, unsure where to even begin.

 

"Gandra w-what even, why, I-- what's-- y-you're shaking, why are you shaking?" He fumbled, searching desperately for one solid thought to grab through the typhoon of them swirling in his head. Shaking, yes, she was shaking, not shivering like he had thought a moment ago. It wasn't cold, she wasn't exhibiting symptoms of shock, but she was shaking all over, so hard she--

 

That wasn't shaking, he realized with a start.

 

"Mm... 'S why I called y-you..." She whimpered out, eyelids flickering like a camera shutter on the fritz. "M... my Nanites are, they hh-." She was cut off, spine snapping back in a violent motion, fingers clawing through the air with fruitless fervor. 

 

Fenton could only watch, eyes wide and hands hanging uselessly in the air as she spasmed wildly.

 

She wasn't shivering, she wasn't shaking, her muscles were spasming under electrical currents.

 

"Nikola Tesla, your Nanites are using your own energy to electrocute yourself! You you- wh what stage of development were they in before you injected yourself?" He shouted incredulously. ' _ Oh please, please say Alpha, please. _ '

 

Gandra's body shook, muscles stuttering under her skin as she finally regained enough control to curl into herself again, panting heavily, eyes screwed closed tight. Fenton grimaced at the sight.

 

Right, now wasn't the time for questions...

 

Instead, he leaned forward and looped his arms around her body, one arm hooked under her knees, the other supporting her back and pressing her up against his chest. He hefted her up and started for the entrance of the alleyway, making sure to steel his arms tight against her in preparation for her next convulsion.She stirred against him, chest shuddering in something achingly close to a sob.

 

"W wh-where, where are we g-going?" She whispered, eyes glazed over now. Fenton swallowed past the bile in his throat. Just how long and how frequently had she been enduring this before he'd answered his phone and showed up?

 

"Where is your lab? It's probably much closer than the Bin and I- I, I don't want to-- I don't want to chance how long that might take..." He fumbled, tongue feeling heavy and dry in his mouth at the thought of how much more she'd have to endure if they had to make the journey all the way to the Money Bin.

 

Maybe he should call Launchpad, hanging on the hope he would even wake up.

 

"Wh... l-lab?" Gandra forced, teetering on the edge of consciousness. Fenton slid her head further up his shoulder, keeping his arm pressed around her while freeing up his hand to snap his fingers loudly.

 

"Ay, Gandra! Gandra, I need you to focus just for a second. Where is your lab, I can't help you without equipment."

 

That got her attention for the moment, as he watched her eyes clear somewhat and lock onto his face. She mustered up the energy to crack a small smile. "Second date 'n your already tryin' to get into my lab huh?"

 

Fenton flushed. "Gandra, focus please!"

 

And she laughed.

 

And for a moment, the heavy weight on his chest eased a little.

 

"Close." She answered finally, petering out the address as her eyelids began to droop again. Fenton turned on his heel and set off for her lab at a jog. He'd go back for his bike later, it had a tracking device clipped onto it anyways.

 

She was true to her word though, the address was very close. She only had to endure one more bout of full body shocks on the way there, though this time Fenton shared the sensation, however mild, feeling the buzzing across the top of her skin as the current found its way through his own muscles.

 

Admittedly, it gave him pause, feeling his arms lock up and shudder under his feathers. But he resisted, he held onto Gandra when his body wanted to drop her, stayed standing firm when his legs trembled. This wasn't as bad as when she shocked him in his Gizmosuit, and it wasn't nearly as bad as what she was enduring right now. If she had endured this for so long, then he could withstand it too.

 

Her lab was just her apartment. A normal apartment in a street side building, the kind with stairs leading up from the sidewalk to a door. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he thought the building was red. The buzz-in system was broken, so the front door was free to open and enter. Fenton scowled at the poor security system.

 

Turns out, her flat was actually just the basement, the only door aside from the buildings' laundry room. She was able to shuffle the key from her pocket at his prompting and they were in easily.

 

Everything was laid out in front of him, no walls distinguishing the kitchen from the living room(though there didn't appear to actually be one of the latter) and piles of electrical equipment strewn about. The only other door most likely led to the bathroom.

 

There was a large examination chair towards the back wall, next to an impressively cluttered desk and various blueprints tacted up on the walls. Fenton laid Gandra down there, moving to the desk to shuffle through the papers fervently, eyes sliding over blueprint after blueprint in search for the right word or image he needed.

 

"Do you have any idea why they began to act up like this?" He called over, glancing briefly to see that she had curled onto her side once again, arms wrapped around her midsection. "And where-- wh, where are the blueprints for the Nanites? Do they have a central control on your neck like Beaks or-- No, no wait, he said he stole BulbTech for that a-and I assume you didn't have BulbTech when you injected yourself with your Nanites so they--" Fenton snapped his bill shut in sudden realization, spinning fully towards Gandra and rushing to her side, sliding fingers into her hair to push the locks away and feel for any sort of technological addition. "Gandra, Gandra, please tell me they-- that you, Gandra, do your Nanites have an external central control system? Ay dios m í o, please, please say they do!" He pleaded with increasing terror shaking through his hands.

 

Gandra only moaned softly on the examination chair, eyelids sliding open only a millimeter before shutting again. Fenton gritted his teeth tight and growled low in frustration, moving from her head to her hands instead, discarding the fingerless gloves onto the floor. He looked over her palms carefully, tracing the circuitry that lay just under her skin. It was only visible in her palms, leading to a blue dot in the center of each palm, but those had to lead down further into her body somehow and connect, right? She had to have some sort of replaceable transmitter in her body that connected to her Nanites, one that could withstand electrical shocks, one that was currently busted and revolting on it's user's body, one that--

 

One that he COULDN'T FIND!

 

Fenton was stilled by a gentle pressure on his hand. He looked down, realizing that his hands were shaking violently, that he was hyperventilating at an alarming rate, that his mind was racing and his vision was spinning; but above all that, he realized Gandra was looking up at him now using all of her energy to keep her eyes open and hold his hand tightly, squeezing reassurances.

 

She opened her beak to speak, the words coming out so soft and hoarse that Fenton had to focus to make them out.

 

"... No fair Suit... Only one a' us c'n... be passin' out righ' now..." She slurred unevenly, taking her hand from his and raising it to tap the right side of her head, then push away the hair there.

 

There, nearly indistinguishable, was a thin line in her scalp. The remainder of a surgery scar.

 

"Ch... chip..."

 

Under the skin, of course she had to make it difficult. But Fenton knew what he had to do now at least. He took a long breath in, curling his hands closed into fists, let it out. Breathe in, breathe out. His mind slowed, vision clearing. Breathe in and...

 

Out.

 

His hands shook no more.

 

Gandra kept a box of rubber gloves near the examination chair, and a box of medical utensils Fenton located quickly. He felt sick at the thought of her alone down here, operating on herself to test her inventions, with seemingly no care to her own preservation or at least extraordinary confidence in her work... He pushed the thought away quickly, picking out the scalpel and the forceps along with a roll of gauze. There was no telling what tranquilizers would do to her in her weakened state, so she would have to go without as much as it upset him.

 

It would just be a small incision. A small, single incision to remove the broken microchip that, hopefully, is still in one piece. A small incision on her head that would bleed and hurt and there would be nothing he could do to stop that until it was done.

 

Fenton whined softly under his breath, breathing roughly again. 

 

He could do this.

 

He could, he had to. He couldn't make her do it herself if she even could and--

 

She called him specifically.

 

_ "I need help and you're the only one smart enough to help me..." _

 

Fenton gulped centering himself again.

 

He could do this.

 

"No matter what you feel, try to keep your head still..." Fenton warned softly, brushing a gloved hand through her hair, first for comfort(for her comfort or his own, he wasn't sure), then to move the feathery locks out of his way.

 

The scar was simple, a pale line and all he had to do was follow it.

 

He lowered the scalpel and touched the blade to her skin.

 

...

 

It was much easier to move forward after that was done and the blood was dabbed away. Gandra didn't even flinch, and he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried by that.

 

The forceps closed on the edge of the microchip with precision and he began to pull i--

 

Fenton doubled-over with sudden, violent force as electricity surged through him, keeping his hand clamped tightly on the forceps and unable to move more than what his muscles were allowing, contracting wildly through his body.

 

He couldn't even shout in pain, eyes blown wide open as he shook, unfocused, in pain, and  **afraid** .

 

If he let his arm shake too much-- he could hurt Gandra really really badly! He could feel his heart thumping erratically in his chest, heaving through it all, trying to keep up, trying not to--

 

He had to pull the chip.

 

NOW!

 

The scream that ripped from his throat as he forced his body into one full-force tug, yanking the microchip from the slot in Gandra's head, chilled those it reached throughout the entire apartment building.

 

The next thing he could remember was being on the hard floor, shaking through residual aftershocks, and staring at the forceps in his hand that held the sparking chip.

 

His vision went black.

 

-

 

Fenton woke with a start, shooting upright and instantly regretting it, feeling the aches deep within his muscles all over that were just a touch away from cramping up. A warning from his own body, ' _ Don't get up, I will not support you and you will regret. _ '

 

He heeded the warning and gently leaned forward enough to sit up without much strain. His mind was swimming but he knew he'd passed out at a wrong moment, he just needed the memory to surface again. He thought hard, rubbing his eyes, trying to will the thoughts forward from the cascade.

 

"Gandra!" He yelped suddenly, heart leaping in his chest, when he finally remembered. He'd passed out on the floor after performing minor surgery on her, leaving her there with an open wound! He tried to force himself to shift, focusing on the rebelling muscles in his legs, when he realized he was not, in fact, on the floor. He was on a bed.

 

"What?" Came a voice from his side, groaning out irritably. He looked over to see Gandra curled up in the bed next to him, turned away from him on her left side.

 

The wave of thoughts that swam through his head in that moment was numbing, but the strongest one compelled his hand forward to push away the hair that laid over the right side of her head. His fingers met bandages and he let out a stress-filled sigh, tension waning from his muscles that led to him flopping back down on his back in relief.

 

He shot back up again immediately, a bright red blush glowing through his feathers.

 

"O-Oh G-G-G-G-G-G-G-G-Gan-- Gan-Gandra!" Fenton shouted, his stutter getting the best of him as he forced his body to scoot away from the woman until the hand he was using to support himself slipped off the edge of the bed. His body followed in an aching heap.

 

"Fenton!" From his legs that remained splayed against the bed, he could feel it shift with movement until Gandra's face peeked over the side at him. She looked tired and a little annoyed but mostly concerned. There were bandages wrapped around her head. She leaned her cheek against one hand and raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

 

"We're in bed together!" Fenton squeaked in return, like it was just so obvious.

 

Gandra chuckled tiredly. "Uh, yeah? Did you want me to leave you on the floor?" She questioned with an amused grin, then readjusted and offered him her hand. "That looks uncomfortable, why don't you get back up here and stop aggravating yourself."

 

He took her hand gently, noting the blue circle in the middle of her palm was dull now. She helped him back onto the bed, where he still tried hard to keep himself on the edge at a distance from her. She rolled her eyes and deftly yanked him closer and into a more comfortable position.

 

"Oh quit that, will you? Least you can do after leaving me with an open wound in my head." She joked, laying back down again, facing him this time. Fenton hesitated, a blush still fixed over his cheeks, then slowly settled back down, facing Gandra this time. His aching body breathed a sigh of relief despite the pounding in his chest. He still had the mind to furrow his brow and frown a little.

 

"Only because you electrocuted me into unconsciousness."

 

Gandra chuckled. "Fair."

 

Silence settled over them as she let her eyes slide shut again, breathing steady and calm. Fenton couldn't even imagine shutting his eyes with the rapid-fire thoughts screaming through his mind. He swallowed, fiddling with his fingers. "So what... happened after I passed out, exactly?" He asked finally, prompting Gandra to blink awake again, shining blue eyes focusing on him.

 

"Mm... I woke up, stitched and bandaged myself up, then dragged us both to bed. Figured you earned it after helping me with that..." 

 

Fenton grimaced, eyes sliding to the bandages again.

 

"I'll have to make a duplicate microchip later, but for now I feel too drained, you know?" She offered, raising her brows and letting her eyes close again.

 

He curled his hands into loose fists.

 

"...Alone?"

 

Gandra's eyes opened again at his whisper, and she blinked in surprise at him. He was staring at her with nothing but concern in his expression, brows furrowed.

 

She held his gaze for a long moment before looking away. "... Yeah, I do all my work alone. Always have."

 

The air between them was charged and thick.

 

She blinked in surprise and looked down to see his hand placed over hers. She looked up into his eyes again.

 

"You don't have to... If you don't want to..." Fenton breathed, voice gentle. "You... you have me now..."

 

Gandra stared at him with wide eyes, and he felt his nerve break, pulling his hand away from hers, opening his bill to rescind his words when she grabbed his hand again. The words caught in his throat.

 

"... I'll think about it, Suit." She finally admitted, a shy smile lifting the corners of her beak.

 

At the sight of that smile, he felt something in his chest lighten and his head calmed and just about cleared, allowing his eyes to close finally.

 

She followed in his footsteps. "That electricity isn't good on the body so... sleep here for a little?"

 

Fenton hummed in agreement, fingers squeezing around her own.

 

Silence fell across the flat and Fenton was sliding into the warm darkness of unconsciousness again when he just barely made out a voice.

 

"I'm glad I called you..."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to just be a one-shot, but you can thank Tigerseyes for the brilliant idea this chapter explores, i.e. a Call from our favorite M'má!
> 
> A side-note: did you know some bird species have been known to 'blush' by having their cheek feathers ruffle up inexplicably when they're bashful. It's a phenomenon called fluffenchops and from now on, that's how any Ducktales bird I write will blush.

 

An incessant ringtone was slowly drawing Fenton from his sleep and something about the situation felt very familiar.

 

"Nngh..." He groaned out pathetically, feeling an aching spreading over his body as wakefulness dawned over him. He couldn't even bring himself to paw for his phone yet, the muscles in his arms revolting to the slightest strain put into them.

 

If he waited long enough, his phone would stop ringing and he could go back to just laying there.

 

And it did stop mercifully, for a moment, before it began again. Normally, his ringtone wasn't that bad, but in that moment he absolutely  _despised_  the song.

 

"Answer your phone before I break it."

 

Fenton just about leaped from his skin, while managing to actually launch himself right off of the plush bed he was laying in and onto the floor. The female voice was immediately familiar to him, but not familiar enough to warrant her being in his room in anyway!

 

"Fenton! You have to stop doing that!" She called again while Fenton laid sprawled on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in confusion. This... wasn't his ceiling.

 

He forced energy into his arms and pushed himself up, arms quaking under the strain, but holding as he looked around to realize that this was not, in fact, his room.

 

And hanging over the edge of the bed, lazily looking down at him, was Gandra Dee.

 

' _Oh, right..._ ' He thought, memories rolling back in with newfound consciousness. ' _I found Gandra last night, electrocuting herself with Nanites on the fritz, then I fixed it. While getting electrocuted myself. Fun._ '

 

Fenton swallowed, rubbing his eyes as a cover for the fluff of his cheeks rising in a blush. He had also slept in the same bed as her.

 

"You okay down there, Suit?" She prompted in a gentle voice, eyelids drooping sleepily.

 

"Ha... No, not really. Everything hurts, but otherwise I'm fine." He answered, rubbing into sore muscles to try and alleviate the ache lingering there.

 

There was still an incessant ringing in his ears, but for now he focused on standing up again instead, shuffling his feet against the floor until he finally pulled together enough energy to--

 

"AH-- Puta madre!" Fenton shouted in sudden pain, collapsing to the floor again as the muscles in his leg cramped up tightly. He groaned in a weak voice on the floor, deciding in that moment that he might just stay there for a while longer.

 

At least the ringing stopped.

 

"Your Mama keeps calling, I'm gonna answer."

 

Fenton's eyes shot open again. The ringing hadn't been in his head, it was his phone, what woke him in the first place!

 

"N-No!"

 

"Hey, Fenton is a bit floored at the moment, but he's sorry he didn't answer earlier." Gandra spoke casually into the receiver as he found the sudden, colossal strength to spring himself from the floor to his feet, reaching for his phone.

 

"Hm?" Gandra hummed in intrigue, rolling effortlessly out of his reach and having the audacity to throw him a cheeky grin. "Oh, my name is Gandra Dee."

 

Fenton tangled his fingers into his feathery hair, absolutely panic-stricken. "Gandra, what are you doing?!"

 

She stuck her tongue out at him, then her face fell to one of subdued surprise. "Oh, yeah. He's right here."

 

And with that, she handed the cellphone to it's rightful owner, and Fenton felt his heart rise into his throat before raising the phone to his ear.

 

"Hola M'má." He finally breathed out after a tense moment of hesitation.

 

"Fenton, where are you?"

 

He flinched at the sharpness in her tone. "Ah M'má, I'm okay I promise! My colleague called me last night and she needed immediate help with an experiment, so I'm over at her lab. It took some time so I just s-slept here instead of going all the way home."

 

Oh he shouldn't have tripped over the word 'slept' like that.

 

The receiver was deadly silent and Fenton could feel a cold shiver creeping up his spine with every passing second.

 

Finally, "Ay, mijo... We'll talk when I get home, okay?"

 

It was less a question, more of a promise.

 

He nodded. "Sí, M'má."

 

"Stay safe pollito, I'll see you later."

 

"Sí, M'má, I will. Stay safe too."

 

And with that, she hung-up and Fenton could finally see his notifications. 26 missed calls, 14 voicemails, and 32 messages; the most recent message preview read:  _I checked that tracker for your bike, WHERE ARE YOU ??_

 

Fenton resisted the urge to throw his phone across the flat and instead ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, groaning loudly.

 

"You gonna be okay Suit?" Came Gandra's voice from near his shoulder. He dragged his hands down his face and plopped down onto the edge of the bed, staring into the distance.

 

"... M'má thinks we're dating. She's gonna demand to meet you and- and ohh, she's probably upset that I've slept over before she met you and-- hhhhhokay she might think we--." Fenton cut himself off by just burying his face in his hands.

 

Beside him, Gandra adjusted, laughing softly. "We're not dating? I don't know about you but I count last night as a second date."

 

"Please, Gandra, this isn't a joke. M'má can be a horror-- no an ordeal- a, a nightmare when she gets upset like this and I don't know what I'm gonna tell her, exactly." He lamented balefully.

 

The flat was silent for a long few moments as Fenton's mind buzzed with worries of what his M'má was going to say and how he was going to answer; what he should and shouldn't admit. He could probably cut the surgery part, maybe the whole electrocution part as well...

 

"... I'm not joking."

 

Fenton blinked from his thoughts, turning to look at his fellow scientist. She was looking away from him, legs crossed on top of the bed, hands folded in her lap. He watched as she tapped her fingers together in some rhythm only she could hear, trying to recall what they'd said before this that led to that reply. He watched her face carefully, noting the rising ruffle in her cheek feathers.

 

It clicked suddenly and Fenton felt his heart shoot into his throat again.

 

"Wh- What?" He mumbled in shock, unable to do anything but stare at her.

 

Gandra shrugged, still staring across the room. "I don't know, I mean I'm not expecting anything, just... Your stunt last night, what you did to help me and then offering to help in future endeavors? It felt... solid, I guess? I just, I wouldn't be against it is all."

 

Fenton could hear his own heartbeat over the quiet, mind eerily blank from her words. What was she saying...?

 

She snapped her legs out from under her suddenly, pushing to her feet and shoving her hands into her pockets. "I could return the favor, I mean. Come with you, smooth things over with your Ma, play the part of your girlfriend if I have to. And honestly, from your track record? You don't seem like you're a very good liar." She turned back then, smirking haughtily at him. "I mean, it was you who said, "Who doesn't know I'm Gizmoduck?", right?"

 

Ah

 

That made more sense.

 

That she was just trying to pay him back, play the part. That's what she meant. 

 

Fenton took in what felt like a missing breath, shaking the feeling off to instead roll his eyes at her. "Honestly I don't know if you being there would make the situation better or worse."

 

"Can't hurt to try though, right?" She prompted and he leveled his gaze on her face again, scrutinizing her for a quiet second before cracking into a smile.

 

"Ay... I guess?" He admitted finally with an unsure chuckle. He glanced at the clock on his phone. 8 am.

 

"Well, either way, she won't be back home until about 6 tonight, so you have time to change your mind." He spoke offhandedly, rising again to his feet.

 

He rocked suddenly, a thought occurring to him. He looked to her once more, seeing she still stood there watching him in return. He felt his breath hitch.

 

What if she was still working for Beaks?

 

What if she was so insistent on this because their next target...

 

Was his M'má?

 

The feeling returned, the hollowness in his chest like he missed a breath of air in his ever-consistent pattern.

 

Gandra furrowed her brow and stepped towards him. "Hey, Suit? You okay there? Lookin' a little unsteady."

 

Fenton shook his head, hands clenched into fists, and steadied himself before answering. "Fine... But really, you don't have to worry about helping me with my M'má tonight. I'll deal with it." He finally responded, tone curter than before.

 

She noticed the difference immediately, frowning and fiddling with her fingers in a worried manner. She didn't say anything though.

 

He turned to survey the room quickly, locating his jacket on the floor, tossed off sometime while they had slept. He slipped it back on, pocketing his phone, and making sure that was everything.

 

"Right... I'm gonna go. Dr. Gearloose is probably wondering where I am."

 

With that, he walked right past her to her flat door, intending to walk out and not look back again.

 

"... Fenton."

 

He froze. Not looking back again was much harder when she called his name like that.

 

He stayed, clutching the doorknob with one hand and, to his credit, keeping his back turned towards her.

 

He sucked in a breath and held it.

 

"...Yes?"

 

A beat of silence, hanging heavy in the air.

 

"Will you stay, and help me replace my chip first?"

 

He clenched his teeth, releasing the breath tightly. Could be an excuse, a trap, a betrayal, a--

 

"I left my suit at home, what if someone--." He stopped, realizing as he was even saying it that he was so impossibly sore and in no mood to shoot off as GizmoDuck just yet. 

 

Instead, an image filled his head.

 

Of Gandra, with a scalpel.

 

Alone.

 

"... Will you still do it even if I don't stay?"

 

He could hear her shuffle.

 

"I mean, yeah. I know you might think I shouldn't but it's honestly my whole sense of security."

 

That made Fenton turn finally, brow raised. Gandra was tracing the circuitry in one of her palms with her finger.

 

"You ever been back into a corner? To be intimidated or mugged? Had someone much bigger than you turn on you with full hostility because you couldn't keep your mouth shut?" She frowned harder.

 

"It's a lot easier to feel safe in your own skin when it can literally zap away your threats. Ones you wouldn't have been able to handle otherwise..."

 

They both stood there silently for a long time, Fenton watching her tightly screwed expression while she focused on rubbing patterns into her palm.

 

He moved forward slowly, reaching out and gently taking her hand. Her eyes flicked to him and he saw fear there. She shook her head though and it was gone in an instant.

 

"I'll stay." He whispered, voice soft, fearful anything louder would break the atmosphere hanging around them.

 

She looked at him with those beautiful blue eyes again and smiled tentatively.

 

He squeezed her hand gently, saying what he couldn't unclog from his throat.

 

' _It's okay, you're safe with me_.'


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♪ It was only a one-shot, how did it end up like this? ♪

"Hold still..." He breathed, voice soft, fingers trailing through her hair delicately.

 

He leaned in closed, eyes trained on her form with such focus, such dedication. She really was a marvel beneath him.

 

With a gentle press, the new microchip clicked into place. Fenton let out a stressed breath, leaning back again with a satisfied smile. "Okay, it's in."

 

Gandra lifted her hand to gently snap close the new port in the side of her head, smoothing a hand over the new addition. She sat up on the examination table, ruffling her hair back over the space, smiling back at Fenton. "Nice job, Suit. Glad I chose you to help."

 

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. "Well now you have access to it without the need to... cut yourself open. And now, the alloy in the chip is much more resilient so it should be much harder to break next time."

 

He furrowed his brow. "How did you end up breaking it the first time?"

 

Gandra swung her legs over the edge of the examination table, kicking them back and forth casually while she thought, rubbing the new space in the side of her head. "Mm, when Beaks threw me off of him he also slammed his elbow into the side of my head. The bastard..." She sneered.

 

Fenton raised his head in surprise. "... Gandra, that happened  _three days_  ago!"

 

She tilted her head, looking at him like nothing was wrong. "Yeah? The shocks were slowly increasing is all. Last night it finally got a little out of control."

 

He stared at her, mouth agape, brows pressed together in concern.

 

"A  _little_??" He shouted finally, utterly struck by her calm demeanor. "Three days, Gandra? You didn't try to-- I-I don't know, do something?"

 

She just shrugged again, looking away. "I didn't trust myself with a scalpel and I... don't trust doctors. I did do something eventually, I called you."

 

Fenton deflated all at once. She did call him, after three days of suffering, but she called him finally when she didn't know what else to do. He dropped his hands into his lap and turned away, letting out a long breath.

 

"I'm glad you called me. When I found you, it didn't seem like you were... holding up too well." He blinked for a moment, a thought occurring to him, before turning his gaze back on her. "How much of that do you even remember?"

 

Gandra wrung her hands together before she answered. "Not much honestly. I was bad when I stopped in the street, I only sort of remember crawling into the alley in case I ran into any Beagle Boys. Then I... I don't know, my phone was in my hands and I-..." She ran her hands up her arms, squeezing a cage around herself. "Wanted to hear your voice."

 

Something pressed against Fenton's rib-cage, a tightness he didn't have time to analyze closer. His throat felt dry suddenly but he still heard himself force out a word that sounded strange and distant.

 

"... Me?"

 

She kept her eyes down but nodded. "And you actually came. I don't even remember actually asking for help. I just remember you picked up and you didn't sound happy, but that was fair. Then I remember realizing the phone was silent again, so one of us must have hung-up, and then... the rest is a blur really. Bits of color, a couple of sounds here and there but uh..."

 

She shrugged again, a much smaller move this time. "I knew you were there? You weren't one moment and the next I just knew you were and I... Didn't think I was gonna die in an alley anymore."

 

Fenton's chest clenched painfully tight.

 

She finally turned to look at him, eyes distant while she smiled something small. "I was right. I'm not dead, you saved me thankfully. So I guess it's a good thing to have the number of a superhero, huh?"

 

Before he knew what he was doing, he had reached out, fingers gently curling over her nearest hand as it clutched her arm. He just let his hand rest there, over hers, trying to convey... something. He wasn't sure what, he was just trying to press the feeling in his chest down and into his touch, to let her know.

 

Let her know that... that he was  _there_.

 

Softly, slowly, she let her grip go lax and turned her hand to face his. 

 

He watched, letting her move and just keeping his hand still, but not pulling away.

 

She threaded her fingers with his, touch gentle and almost hesitant, squeezing his hand.

 

And he squeezed back.

 

And their eyes met.

 

They each leaped in surprise as a sudden, loud ringing filled the space, pulling their hands back to themselves while Fenton ripped his phone from his pocket, the source of the noise. The source of a lot of recent rude blaring. He should turn his ringer down...

 

His heart sunk at the Caller ID and, while still holding the phone away from his head, answered.

 

"WHERE ARE YOU?" Gyro's shriek came through the receiver clearly despite the fact that it was not, in fact, on speaker. Fenton finally brought the phone to his ear.

 

"I--I'm sorry Dr. Gearloose, something came up and-and I forgot to message you I was so busy." Fenton explained frantically.

 

"Now listen here, you may be using my suit to do your 'hero-ing' around out there for Scrooge, but you are also still my intern. And as such, I require updates on your location and status of my suit!" Gyro shrilled in his ear, very agitated.

 

Fenton flinched. "I- uh... I don't actually have the suit with me, Dr. Gearloose..."

 

"WHAT?"

 

He yanked the phone away from his ear again, sharing a glance with Gandra who sat there watching him with a raised brow.

 

"I-I-It's safe, sir!" Fenton pressed. "I was busy with -w-with science things."

 

The other end of the line was quiet and Fenton could envision Gyro pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

Finally, he sighed. "Well, if you use it later, make sure to keep me updated, alright?"

 

Fenton's bill cracked into a weak smile. The snap was still in Gyro's tone, but it was a lower level now, consistent with his normal snippyness. "Yes sir, Dr. Gearloose."

 

Gyro hung up then and Fenton let out a woosh of air, letting his shoulders sag before offering Gandra a weak smile. "I'm not fired at least."

 

"That doctor really has a stick up his ass doesn't he?"

 

He let out a sharp, surprised laugh at that, trying to cover his amusement behind his hands. "No, he's really brilliant, I swear! One of the most brilliant minds of this century! I'm thankful to be working for him just, he... doesn't make it easy all the time." He admitted slowly, wincing as the words left his mouth.

 

Gandra laughed. "Yeah, I can tell."

 

He shook his head in amusement, glancing down at his phone to spot the time. 3pm "Ah, I'm gonna go. I want to get home with enough time to make M'má something special before she gets home." He explained, rising to his feet suddenly, grabbing his jacket to slip on.

 

"Doesn't that just admit to a guilty conscious?" Gandra piped up, leaning her chin into her palm to watch him with a cheeky expression.

 

Fenton's movement stuttered for just a moment. She was right. "Maybe so, but it would still make me feel better."

 

He opened up the tracker on his phone, locating his bike quickly. It was still at the entrance of the alleyway surprisingly enough! He nodded to himself, pocketing the phone again and opening up the door to the flat. "Take care, Gandra." He called over his shoulder, stepping out of the flat with a pep in his step and a fresh sense of hope for humanity since his bike hadn't ended up being stolen.

 

"Fenton."

 

He turned in surprise, realizing Gandra had followed him to the door and was now standing there in the doorway. He opened his mouth to reply when she reached out suddenly, gripping both sides of his unzipped jacket, and pulled him down with a strong tug.

 

Her beak pressed against his cheek in a soft peck, then she let him go again, smiling and backing into her flat. "See ya later, Suit."

 

She shut the door.

 

Fenton stayed there, motionless in shock, feeling the realization dawn warm all over his body as his cheek feathers fluffed up without his control. Slowly, he reached his hand up, touching the spot where her beak had met his skin.

 

His chest throbbed painfully and he felt his bill twitch into a smile.

 

"... See ya later..." He whispered in echo, holding onto the implication there with both hands grasped tight.

 

Finally, he turned and left the apartment, smiling giddily.

 

-

 

By the time he'd reached his bike, he suddenly understood why it hadn't been stolen.

 

He raised his hand in a sheepish wave to the officer stationed there, one of the officers under his M'má's orders. The quail crossed her arms, nodding back at him in return.

 

"Officer Cabrera was practically losing it this morning, Fenton. She called the whole force asking us to keep eyes out for you, you know? You really worried her and she had one of us stationed here to make sure you came back for it unharmed." She explained motioning to the bike and Fenton frowned more and more as she went on about his M'má's tirade.

 

"Ay... I'm so sorry, Officer. I promise I'll call her next time, before she does this again." 

 

The officer smiled at him lopsidedly and nodded her appreciation. "I get it, she just cares about you a lot."

 

Fenton smiled at that. "Yes, I know. Thank you for everything Officer."

 

She tipped her hat in return and with that they parted ways, Fenton hopping onto his bike and pedaling home.

 

-

 

It was grueling and tiring, especially with his body still mildly torn up from the electric shocks he had endured, but dinner was done and it was a marvel. The whole house was full of delicious scents, and he had effectively distracted himself as the time ticked down to the arrival of his M'má.

 

He was setting everything out on the living room coffee table(M'má wouldn't want to miss her soap opera) and getting cleaned up in preparation. He still felt stressed about the imminent encounter, but he knew he'd get through it one way or another.

 

He was putting away the last pot when he heard a creak in the wood behind him. He took a breath in preparation and turned.

 

"Welcome home M'máaa- aahh?" He trailed off in shock as he realized, it wasn't his M'má standing there.

 

Gandra offered him a short wave, patting her pockets in small, fidgety movements. "Hey there, Suit. Nice feast you cooked up there."

 

"Gandra?" He mumbled, brain short circuiting.

 

He heard the front door open in the other room. "Pollito, I'm home!"


	4. Chapter 4

"We spoke over the phone, Gandra Dee ma'am, nice to meet you in person." Gandra smiled at Officer Cabrera as they shook hands, standing in the living room next to a fully decked out table of food. Fenton was standing at Gandra's side, just staring blankly into the distance, still trying to piece together anything that made sense.

 

"It's good to finally meet you, my Fenton was so wound up for your date a few days ago, I was worried! But look at you! Such a lovely young woman for my mijo." M'má cooed excitedly, no doubt glad that after all these years Fenton was finally bringing someone home.

 

The duck in question still could do nothing more than stare through his M'má as this exchange went on in front of him.

 

Gandra laughed politely. "Yeah, I could tell he looked a little frazzled that night, but I promise it was simply  _electric_." She reached out and grasped Fenton's limp hand, pulling him back to the moment with a start. He chuckled nervously.

 

"Ah, heh, y-yeah uh, please excuse us for a moment M'má? I have to talk to Gandra about something really quickly." Fenton rushed out suddenly, gripping Gandra's hand in return and beginning to pull them both away when M'má frowned sternly at him.

 

"Fenton, don't be rude now! She is a guest here and she and I were speaking."

 

"I'm sorry M'má, but it's very important. I promise it will only be a minute." He called back, pulling Gandra with him deeper into the house, closing the door of his room behind them. He spun on his heel back towards Gandra in an instant.

 

"What are you doing?" He whisper-shouted, feeling panic coursing through his body freely now. "How- how, how did you even find my house, how did you get in? Why are you here?" He questioned, each question coming out with increasingly frantic.

 

Gandra was unfazed, looking around his room with calm intrigue. "Tracked your phone here, then picked the back door lock. I felt bad about leaving you to handle this alone when it was my fault in the first place."

 

Her nonchalant tone almost tricked Fenton out of registering what he had just heard.

 

" _Gandra_ ," He whimpered, voice strained. " _That's not **normal**!_"

 

She chuckled at that.  _Chuckled!_  "Well yeah? I don't do anything normally, Suit. Thought you knew that already."

 

His hands rose to his head, gripping handfuls of feathers there. "This-- this is not going to work! My M'má is a police officer and you broke into our house!"

 

"I didn't leave a mark, you can't even really tell."

 

Fenton stared at her in bewilderment. Then swallowed hard. "Gandra, you need to leave..."

 

She turned at that, leveling her confused stare with his. "...What?"

 

He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. "You need to leave."

 

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why?" Her eyes were hard now, gaze challenging. Fenton held his ground.

 

"... I can't be sure you aren't still working for Beaks."

 

He watched as her posture went slack all of a sudden, face falling and eyes widening in, what could only be described as, hurt. Fenton forced himself on.

 

"I won't let him use M'má or someone else I care about against me, and you've shown that I can't trus--."

 

"Stop."

 

He closed his beak, cutting his words off around the tight clench in his throat. Her voice was nothing less than a whimper.

 

Gandra had her head tipped down, bangs hanging over her eyes, hiding her expression. He realized, with a tight clench of his stomach, that she was shaking.

 

"Listen..." She breathed, after a steadying breath. She raised her head again, blue eyes swimming with tears and brimming with pain. Fenton's heart dropped. "I don't work for that capitalist bastard anymore, and I never will again after what happened. I know I betrayed your trust. I just-- I just thought..." She closed her mouth and just shook her head. "I thought I could fix it..."

 

Gandra waved her hand in defeat. "But I was being stupid."

 

She turned from him and started for the door. He reached for her in a flash, fingers closing on her wrist. "Gandra!"

 

She spun just as quickly back towards him, grabbing the front of his shirt and ripping him down to her level, and their beaks met.

 

She kissed him hard, the action full of desperation and sorrow and pain, and then it was over. She looked up at him, tears slipping down her cheeks, and smiled something small and sad.

 

And fake.

 

"I thought I could fix it..."

 

She turned and waltzed out his bedroom door, through the living room, right past Miss Cabrera, and through the front door.

 

And Fenton didn't move to stop her. He didn't move at all, still as a statue.

 

This time though, all he felt inside was cold.


	5. Chapter 5

She held him close, pressing kisses to his mouth, needy and unrelenting, and this time he was given the chance to push back, hands pulling her closer.

 

There were few chances to find breath between their mouths, but those moments he used to speak, voice hoarse and sorrowful.

 

"I'm sorry... I... I'm so-- sorry I-- Gan... Gandra..." He whimpered out softly, clawing against the thin fabric of her shirt, against the arch of her back.

 

She panted, breath hot against his skin, pulling back finally and leaving him flushed and gasping against the bed. His eyes dragged over her form, chest tight. She smiled down at him.

 

In a blink, like a crack splitting the mirror in two, Gandra was teary-eyed with that fake smile again.

 

"I thought I could fix it..."

 

"NO!"

 

Fenton shot up in bed suddenly, caked in sweat, chest clenched painfully tight. The room was dark and empty, and he was awake again from another dream about  _ her _ .

 

He dipped his head down, pressing his hands against his face roughly. He was plagued by her still, five days after their last encounter, dreams and daydreams and nightmares piling on each other, reuniting them both just for her to say one more time--

 

"I thought I could fix it..."

 

His hands shook, fingers digging harder against the ridges of his face, soaking in the slowly building ache he inflicted there.

 

What could he do? Show up at her apartment and apologize? Text her like a coward? He was still afraid, afraid she was lying to him, that it'd been a ploy to yank around his emotions and bring him crawling back where she'd drop the hammer, hand him over to Beaks, more broken than before.

 

But he was even more afraid that she hadn't been lying to him.

 

He flung the blankets away, preening himself until the gross feeling of sweat all over his feathers went away. Then he dressed in a wrinkled shirt and deftly crawled out of his bedroom window, dragging his duffel bag out with him. He unzipped it, leaving it open where it lay in the grass.

 

"Blathering blatherskite."

 

If he couldn't sleep then he would work, and he would work until he dropped if that's what he had to do.

 

Gizmoduck activated his shoulder jets and sped away, looking for anything to distract himself, to occupy his racing mind. Something to help push down the lump in his throat.

 

-

 

Fenton wheezed in pain, doubling over as much as he could with the Gizmosuit still wrapped around his form. He supported himself on one arm, the other hanging limply, metal around the appendage crushed and twisted in a worrying manner. There was a thick red liquid leaking through the broken shards.

 

He'd left the scene after everyone was safe and the collapsing building was safely handled. Unfortunately, part of the building had collapsed on his arm, crushing the armor over his arm and now he was losing blood. He could deactivate the suit and it would pull off, but the metal was crumpled in such a way that he was afraid his arm would come with it, right off of his body.

 

He whimpered as he looked at the damage, shaking unsteadily in his suit.

 

"Hh... hhaa... Wh-what do I-- dios mio, I-I..." His voice was wavering, head swimming, panicking and shaking all over he--.

 

There was ringing in his helmet but he couldn't remember ordering the suit to call anyone. Who would even pick up at this time at night?

 

There were tears in his eyes, dripping from down to splat in thick, blurry droplets against the visor of his helmet.

 

The dial-tone clicked and there was nothing but resounding silence. Fenton listened to his own breathing get more and more labored. He was desperate, he was losing blood, he was  _ afraid _ .

 

"Please please- p-please please I, mierda help please I need-- help please help, there's ahhh hhaa-- blood so much blood I..." Fenton rambled out, losing focus, gaze swirling and darkness closing in.

 

"Please- please ple... please I... Gan... Gandra-- Gandra please I- I'hmm sorry, I'm so sorry- I--" He collapsed, remaining arm giving out finally. Still, he mumbled on deliriously, face pressed against the asphalt beneath him.

 

"I'm sorry m sor--sorry Gandra Gandra- Gan-- I-- blood I, mierda mier-- mie.. I'm so... sor... sorry..."

 

Darkness blanketed him, promising warmth and protection, promising no more pain.

 

He fell into it without a second thought.

 

-

 

Fenton felt light, dreamy and dull, floating in a dark space free of body and, mercifully, mind. Sounds came and went, muffled through the veil. He ignored them anyways, they didn't matter to him here.

 

He just wanted to rest.

 

... Wait.

 

He shifted gently, eyes sliding open halfway. There was nothing but the quiet space he floated in. There was no physicality here, just mind, just him and the barrier between this space and his wakefulness.

 

But something...

 

Something...

 

His eyes slid closed again, unable to grasp what he was looking for and losing the will to. He needed to rest, rejuvenate.

 

His eyes snapped open again, and he could feel his spirit protest but-- no he had to... There was something!

 

A muffled sound passed the veil. Familiar, something-- something familiar he...

 

He pressed closer to the barrier, summoning everything together. He had to listen.

 

"...ton... ay wi... ssho..."

 

He pressed harder.

 

Familiar, familiar...

 

He had to listen, he... something was wrong. Who...

 

"... Asshole... stay... stay with me."

 

Oh.

 

He pushed harder and harder but the veil wouldn't give, his body wouldn't react. All he could do was listen.

 

"Fenton, stay with me, bastard..."

 

Her voice.

 

He pressed against the barrier and something fluttered beyond it, a sliver of vision, blurry but there.

 

It was hard to tell, colors melted together, but that voice... It had to be her.

 

"... G... Gandra..."

 

He spoke, but he still couldn't reach his consciousness. This was enough though, she was there, why was she there?

 

"Yes, good boy, stay with me now Suit, stay with me." She was there, she was with him...

 

The barrier pressed back and he floated deeper, slipping back into the warm dark. He couldn't get himself to blink again, couldn't speak, couldn't hear.

 

He was tired...

 

"... gonna get you help..."

 

-

 

Fenton's eyes fluttered open weakly, a warm feeling spreading over his body as he rose to consciousness again.

 

The first thing he realized, was that he was in the hospital. His senses were assaulted immediately, finding himself surrounded by stark white colors, nose saturated in that chemically sterile smell, and head filled with the sound of machinery beeping. It was an experience he was quickly becoming used to.

 

The second thing he realized, was that he was not in the Gizmoduck armor anymore, and he didn't remember taking it off himself.

 

He groaned out loudly, panic driving him to attempt to sit up and body immediately rejecting the idea.

 

"Calm down, don't make me call the nurses in again." Came a snippy tone off to his side, and the duck rolled his head, spotting a very familiar white chicken sat awkwardly in one of the small, uncomfortable hospital chairs. Gyro was tapping away at his tablet, only casting Fenton a glance over the rim of his glasses to quirk a brow. Lil Bulb was seated on his shoulder and waved when Fenton's eyes landed on him.

 

"A... again?" He rasped out finally, voice weak. 

 

Gyro hummed, nodding in affirmation without taking his eyes from the tablet again. His long legs were crossed, knees held too high in the unsupportive chair. "You've woken up, delirious, three times now. I don't really feel like dealing with it a fourth time, so try to  _ not  _ do that again, thank you."

 

Fenton wilted. "Sorry..." His panic came back with sudden vigor though as he remembered why he'd shifted in the first place.

 

"Ah, Dr. Gearloose! I- the- the Gizmosuit! Wh- where i--"

 

"AH ah ah." Gyro interrupted, raising a hand up and quieting Fenton effectively. "I will talk to you about what you've done to my suit after you recover enough. I have it back in the lab and I'm working through the blueprints now. Unfortunately I'll have to find a sturdier metal since you keep finding ways to  _ ruin  _ it."

 

The duck's voice caught in his throat, brows furrowing and eyes shifting back and forth as he scoured his memories to find out how he had gotten the Gizmosuit back to Gyro before he ended up here. "W-wait but... I..."

 

He looked down at his arm and flinched at the very sight. He couldn't see any part of his actual arm aside from his fingers sticking out from the cast at the end. The damage was clearly something else, judging by the plaster stabilizer that was also attached to the cast.

 

"... I couldn't get it off though..." He whispered in confusion.

 

"Yes, you can thank that little spy for that. Honestly I'm not sure what damage is from the building, and what is from her carelessly ripping apart the framework!" Gyro grumbled loudly, shifting his legs in agitation.

 

Fenton was even more confused now. "S-spy? Ripping apart what?"

 

Gyro scoffed, finally lowering the tablet to roll his eyes and direct his attention to his intern. He pointed at Fenton's damaged arm. "She had to  _ pry _ you out of the suit, your arm was pinned inside. She practically tore it apart to get you out, and I had to scrap the whole arm instead of just fixing it. Now I'll have to replace it from scratch."

 

Silence filled the hospital room as Gyro rose to his feet, shaking his legs out for a moment while his attention returned to the tablet. "And now that you're actually awake and okay, I can report your condition to Scrooge and Officer Cabrera and return to the lab to finally start the rebuild process. Try to wake up sooner next time."

 

With that, he headed for the door to the room. Lil Bulb waved to Fenton again, leaping to Gyro's other shoulder as he turned. Fenton shifted urgently, groaning through the ache. "Wait, Dr. Gearloose, wh-- who? She?"

 

Gyro didn't even stop, just jabbing a finger in the air towards the corner of the room before leaving. Fenton followed the direction until his eyes fell on her.

 

She sat on another of the guest chairs, fit snugly in the corner by her own choice it seemed. Her legs where drawn up to her torso, feet pressed firmly against the edge of the seat, hands loosely holding onto her ankles. His eyes met her blue ones through her bangs, lower half of her face hidden behind her knees.

 

"... Hey Suit."

 

Fenton's throat felt dry.

 

"... Gandra..."

 

The silence in the room was thick, entirely juxtaposed to the roaring clamor that ensued in his head. So many things zipped through his mind, so many different questions, so many different apologies, but none actually spilled onto his tongue. Instead he just took her in. The first time he'd seen her in the waking world after his accusation in his room, he needed to drink in the sight. His chest stuttered and a machine beeped worryingly behind him. How could he be sure this wasn't a dream? The others had seemed so real, so vivid. He...

 

Fenton shifted rougher this time, struggling to pull himself up despite the tubes branching off of him. The machines beeped at alarming tones now, trying to convince him from his train of thought, but he was desperate, panting and groaning in duress already but still trying to move himself off of the bed.

 

"Suit, what are you doing?" Her voice was at his side suddenly, shouting at him in distress and he felt pressure against his shoulders. "Lay down, don't worry, I'm leaving. I know you don't want to see me, I just wanted to make sure you..." She let herself trail off, and he succumbed to the pressure on his body, laying down flat again. She pulled away but he was quicker with his uninjured arm, grasp closing around her hand. She froze and he could only stare at their hands, focused on the feeling of her feathers under his touch, the warmth of her body radiating against his fingers.

 

Real, she was real.

 

He gasped softly, sliding his thumb over her knuckles. "... What happened...?"

 

Gandra looked over at Fenton's other arm, brows knitting together. Concern read clear in her expression.

 

"... You called me." She began finally, fingers slowly closing over his in return. The gesture felt like it rocked him on his feet. "I picked up but didn't say anything at first. You started babbling and it was hard to understand what you were saying but your voice sounded... wrong. Then you started saying there was blood and I realized you had been asking for help. You must have been delirious though, I asked where you were but you just kept going and your words were getting less and less clear. I tracked your phone instead and found you collapsed and your  _ arm _ ..."

 

She winced, eyes narrowing at the memory. "You were in bad shape and the gauntlet on your suit was mangled and wouldn't come off. I had a crowbar though. I might have tore up what remained, circuitry included, but I got your arm out. After that, the rest was easy. I may have taken your phone to call that bitchy scientist, but I think that was a justified move. He got together a special ambulance for you, I guess, and came with to collect the armor."

 

"Then he told me to come with you to the hospital while he was busy with clean-up. Dare I say he seemed actually concerned for you? I don't really know him well enough though so don't hold me to that." She chuckled weakly.

 

"... You had to go into surgery, but there weren't any complications past the extent of the injury itself. Now, here you are. You did wake up high as a kite like three times before but pain meds and mortal dread do that to a person." She patted his hand with her free one, offering him a forced smile. His chest tightened.

 

"You're alive. So... debt repaid I guess. You don't have to worry about me anymore after this."

 

"Gandra." She raised her head in surprise as his voice came out stronger than before, demanding her attention.

 

His eyes were full of sorrow, but he held her stare unwavering, tightening his grip on her hand, almost trying to reassure himself that she was there, that she wouldn't disappear again like so many times before.

 

He had to speak, he had to tell her everything.

 

But where did he even begin?

 

"It's okay, Suit. I did it to myself, you don't have to feel guilty." She chuckled again, a mirthless sound. "You hero types..."

 

No, no that wasn't--!

 

"I haven't stopped thinking about you since you left!" He forced out suddenly, voice feeling scratchy and chest tightening around the admittance, but he had to get it out, she had to understand!

 

She looked down at him in surprise, falling silent.

 

"You're in all of my thoughts, all of my dreams have been about you, I can't think clearly anymore! I didn't know what to do, I didn't know how to say-- I didn't know how- If you even wanted to speak to me ever again! I was afraid of seeing you again, of knowing I'd utterly broken what we were growing! I let paranoia cloud my thoughts, let that  _ bastard _ into my head, started second-guessing everything because I was told I was too trusting before, but--... But I wanted to trust you so bad, I wanted to see you so badly, talk to you, laugh with you and discuss experiments! You made me feel normal, you made me feel--  _ understood _ ! No one else had ever done that before you and I was so struck. But that scared me... I had people I wanted to protect but you-- I was so scared you were the enemy, because you were someone I wanted to protect too!"

 

The words just kept coming and now tears were spilling from his eyes as well.

 

"And you saved me, you--you saved me! You could have left me to die, you could have taken the Gizmosuit but you didn't, you didn't-- you, maybe you did just do it to pay me back but... but I'm so glad I called you- I... Gandra I'm sorry, please please, I'm so sorry! Mierda, mierda I'm so sorry for everything, I'm so sorry I hurt you, please-- please please, ple.. please just... I miss you, Gandra I miss you so much, I've always been a self-destructive idiot but I didn't ever want to hurt you, please just-- I-I want... please stay, please... I'm so selfish, so  _ fucking _ selfish but please- please I need you..."

 

His rambling slowly trailed away, voice getting weaker and more and more raspy as the tears came, unrelenting. He held onto Gandra's hand like a life-line, pain throbbing under his ribs the more the words poured out, the more the  _ truth _ poured out.

 

And it made him feel so small. Small and desperate and selfish and

 

weak.

 

He had looked away as soon as he realized he had no more control over his words, too afraid to watch her face. His attention snapped back to her in an instant, following a dangerous lurch of fear in his chest when she suddenly pulled her hand from his.

 

Before he could cry out, she was all around him instead, arms looped carefully around his shoulders and head, pressing against him. He welcomed the contact, gripping the back of her shirt, desperate to keep her close to him like this, scent surrounding him, warmth flooding all over his body. He pressed his face into her hair and sobbed. She pet his hair with one hand, fingers caressing his head in such tender, comforting touches that he felt he would overload from the attention combined with his emotional outburst.

 

She was whispering to him, shushing him gently.

 

His throat felt raw when he spoke.

 

"Please Gandra, please Gandra please-- don't don't leave, don't-- I can't, I- I--."

 

"I won't, I'm not leaving, I'm right here." She breathed in return.

  
  
  


... And she didn't. She stayed there, curled against him on the edge of the hospital bed, let him cry himself out until another dose of pain meds kicked in and dragged him back to sleep. Even then, she stayed, clutching at him like he was the only thing keeping her above water. The only time she disentangled herself from him was when a nurse came to check him out and she was in the way. The moment she gave the all clear, reminding her which tubes to be careful of, and left, Gandra was crawling back into the spot at his side. 

 

Maybe she just stayed like that because of her discomfort with hospitals, and it wasn't like Fenton was awake to judge her for it.

 

...Maybe she stayed like that because she'd been suffering the same as him.

 

Maybe she stayed like that because she finally had something to hold onto.

  
  
  


Fenton was released from the hospital two days later with some prescription pills, a fresh cast, and strict instructions to not 'operate heavy machinery' until the cast came off again.

 

Gandra was at his side every step of the way.

 

They had a lot to talk about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO thats the end of this little prompted adventure, but maybe not the fic? It feels incomplete to me still but only because i trapped myself in Fenton's POV meaning I didnt have the chance to explore Gandra's actual deeper feelings over that matter.
> 
> So this brings me to a question.
> 
> Would anyone be willing to read another chapter if it were set in Gandra's POV during the five days they were apart, going over her emotional baggage and headcanons i have in place for her?
> 
> Or, if you'd like to see this continue with another plot point you might think of or want to see Fenton and Gandra go through, feel free to share and it may inspire me! I'll even shout you out in the notes beforehand.
> 
> Note: Not all ideas will be written, only the ones that possibly strike inspiration in me.
> 
> Thank you for reading!!


	6. Special Chapter: Gandra's POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god guys I've never written this fast and passionately before in my LIFE. But, here we are! The actual conclusion, taking a closer look at Gandra's insecurities and explaining some of her behaviors hopefully.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and feel free to suggest anything you might want to see in another possible chapter! Though, if it's good enough I might give it it's own fic dedicated to the idea lol

 (Set immediately after Chapter 4)

 

She walked all the way home, pulling on her headphones and hitting play on her playlist. It was full of loud songs, pounding in her ears, drowning away her thoughts. Hiding.

 

She didn't have to deal with the hurricane inside her if she didn't give herself the space to think.

 

Her fingers lingered on the tech, accidentally tracing over the Waddle insignia. She pulled her hands away like she'd been burned.

 

She felt sick.

 

The simple act of gripping the bulky ear cups of her headphones once brought her such comfort, their mere existence promised a way to block out the situation had she ever need it, an escape route, but now even that had been tainted by her association with that disgusting, spoiled dweeb.

 

An association she had chosen to engage in.

 

Gandra grit her teeth, turning up her music. She didn't want to think, she didn't want to feel. She just wanted to get home and away from all the slow moving people filling the streets on their way home as dusk swept over the city.

 

When she did reach her apartment finally, she let herself in, locking the door behind her, and turning to look across her flat. She froze, music thumping in her head like a headache.

 

Had her flat always felt so empty?

 

Had she always felt so alone here?

 

Gandra groaned loudly, something to fill the space, ripping off her headphones in one rough move. She looked down at them in her hands, fingers trembling, tears falling into her open palms and across the frame of the headphones.

 

On the sides, the stylized letter 'W' peeked back at her.

 

"HRRAHH!" She screamed out suddenly and, with a quick twist and snap, ripped off one of the speakers from the headband. An exposed wire trailed weakly after the ear cup, but it was ripped away with ease. She dropped the pieces to the floor, storming over to her work bench and letting her hand wrap around the handle of a hammer. Stalking back to the broken headphones filled her with some strange sense. A wash of even more rage, but more than that was the surmounting satisfaction just at the idea of what she was about to do. Her skin felt like it was on fire and she wouldn't have been surprised if, in that moment, she turned and found her footprints had left scorch marks on the stone floor.

 

She gripped the hammer tightly, lowering to her knees before her helpless victim. She raised the weapon high, aiming right for the flat face of the 'W'. She brought the hammer down with the force of angry gods.

 

The head of the hammer smashed its way through the weak shell easily, demolishing the logo in one fell swoop.

 

Gandra smiled.

 

She turned on the other ear cup, this one on its side. She swung, and it crumpled under her force, shell shattering into jagged pieces this time.

 

She laughed, swinging again, crushing the headband, and again, smashing the inner wiring, and again, and again, and again.

 

She didn't stop until the pieces spread in front of her didn't even resemble their original design anymore. She didn't stop until her arm felt like it'd fall off if she didn't.

 

She didn't want to stop until the pain was  **gone** .

 

But it was still there, rolling in her chest like a rising storm.

 

She dropped the hammer at her side, chest heaving, looking upon her destruction. It was far past the point of any possible fixing.

 

The sob in her throat caught her off-guard, and suddenly she couldn't stop, doubled over and screaming into the stone ground; screaming and crying until her throat was raw and she feared blood would rise if she continued. Even then, she was tempted.

 

Instead, she just sat there, staring into the cold, unrelenting ground beneath her, trying to focus on breathing again.

 

She hurt across both arms and shoulders and up into her throat. Her head throbbed with a violent headache and she wasn't sure when it'd formed.

 

It took ten more minutes to pull herself up from the ground and bury herself under her blankets.

 

There, she was hidden from the world, warm and dark and concealed.

 

But she didn't feel better.

 

She felt alone.

 

-

 

The days went by somehow equally in a blur and at a snail's pace. Gandra lost track of the day quickly, sleep schedule waking her at strange hours and leaving her discombobulated. Even then, the hours she spent awake, working through blueprints and old works still in progress, seemed to slip by so slowly that she wasn't sure time was even still passing while she was awake. But she had to fill her time with something, fill her head with something aside from the obvious. Yet, when she finally dropped with exhaustion, her dreams were haunted. She was alone there too, a disquieting and new feeling. There she knew someone else should be with her, but they weren't there anymore.

 

They weren't there anymore...

 

She... she was losing her grip quickly.

 

The string was reaching it's end but she still didn't want to face these emotions, didn't want to acknowledge what they could mean, what would change for her, how she had already changed.

 

Gandra smacked the heel of her hand to her temple. No more of that.

 

She was busy, she was occupied.

 

She was busy.

 

She was busy, even if she had to make herself busy.

 

She was slipping, the string was drawing closer to it's end.

 

She...

 

Gandra stopped suddenly, just... stopped. She gently placed the screwdriver that she had been holding down and turned in her seat.

 

Her flat was empty, just like always.

 

But it hadn't always bothered her.

 

She had been so used to being alone, for so long. Just her against the world it seemed. Just her and her inventions and the people who looked at her like she was crazy, a kook, a menace, a--

 

"Crackpot..." She whispered, voice cracking from disuse.

 

And then she started to cry, wailing pathetically at what she'd done.

 

What she'd lost.

 

What she’d  _ broken _ .

  
  


When Gandra Dee was 13 her parents died.

 

That same year she moved into her first foster home. She only lasted there for 5 months before her scientific endevours became too much for her foster parents. They sent her back without so much as a goodbye.

 

The pattern continued just like that, foster home after foster home, unable to handle her pursuits and increasingly standoffish nature. She learned that it was less disappointing to just close herself off and continue on alone. It wasn't like anyone understood her.

 

To her, science was everything. It was the one thing she could keep with her no matter what.

 

At 15 she finally settled into a foster home. A old widowed chemist. Gandra was certain she only took her in as a favor to Gandra's case worker, since she didn't actually pay much attention to Gandra other than keeping the fridge stocked and her wardrobe full. Even in a home, she was alone. But that was okay, she had grown used to it by then.

 

And she stayed alone, keeping her distance from others, a buffer, an escape plan if she needed one. She stayed like that until she moved out on her 18th birthday.

 

Her foster parent didn't object. Gandra wasn't sure she even noticed.

 

But she was alone, and that was okay. Just her and her experiments, and no one to narrow their eyes at her or judge her work or stop her from experimenting on herself for the pursuit of her research. She liked it that way for so many years.

 

And then... She took a job for a corporation, undercover, getting a verbal pass-code from Duckbergs show-off of a hero, Gizmoduck. The paycheck was big and while she despised Mark Beaks, she needed rent money.

 

Besides, Gizmoduck was just another fame-hungry hack. She'd enjoy ripping the carpet out from under him.

 

... That's not how it ended up happening though...

 

The duck in the armor, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera, was so much more than that. He was brilliant and kind and genuinely wanted to help make the world a better place, whether it was through his inventions or through his hero work. Gandra hadn't been prepared for that, she'd been ready for someone self-centered and self-righteous. Someone easy to hurt.

 

Fenton was none of these things.

 

He was interested in her work, he smiled at her and listened intently when she spoke.

 

He  _ understood _ ...

 

And Gandra knew she had made a mistake. She didn't want to do this anymore but she didn't know how to back down from it. Before she could figure it out, he knew somehow.

 

The hurt in his voice...

 

She didn't think she'd ever hear from him again, knew she didn't deserve it. She'd made her mistake, had so many choices and chose wrong. She would live with that.

 

And yet she ached...

 

She ached so fiercely after that, she was sure something was wrong. Her flat felt colder inside, and she felt such desire to talk to someone, to share her creations with someone who would understand. A feeling that hadn't reared it's head since she was a child...

 

Before she was alone.

 

But she pushed it down, ignored it. She would be fine, she was used to living life alone, finding comfort in the solitude. She'd find that balance again.

 

She couldn't seem to though, and finally, in her weakest moment, all alone, she called him. Because what else was there? How many times could she save herself until she just wasn't enough anymore?

 

He came, he helped her, he understood and filled the silence she had grown so used to. She didn't realized how much she had missed it.

 

She didn't realize he was changing her with every second.

 

Suddenly there was this guy, so bright and genuine, who smiled at her and understood.

 

And Gandra Dee didn't  _ want _ to be alone anymore...

 

... But she had already ruined her shot at that before they’d even met, choosing to work for the megalomaniacal scum known as Beaks. He was right to remind her of that.

 

And now, she was collecting her dues.

 

Alone again, but it was no comfort anymore.

 

He was her comfort.

 

And she broke it.

 

Gandra held her stomach as it twisted painfully, choking on her lasting tears and pressing them into her pillow.

 

She had nothing to hold onto. 

 

Everything she touched, left in pieces in her hands.

 

In the darkness, her phone rang. She answered without a second thought after one glance at the name, throat closing tight on anything she could possibly say. Instead, she listened.

 

And her heart dropped into her stomach.

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ................................. So maybe this fic isn't done yet. I'm weak, please enjoy.

"I just realized I won't be able to put the suit on until my arm heals." Fenton mumbled, stunned by the realization as it came to him. He and Gandra were entering his house, having just gotten home from the hospital. She turned to raise her eyebrow at him, smirking in amusement.

 

"Suit, the armor is the reason you broke it in the first place."

 

"While  _ protecting _ people." He corrected, moving to his room first thing to set his new bottle of medication down on his bedside table. "Without Gizmoduck, whose going to fend off Duckberg from calamities, natural disasters, Mr. McDuck's enemies, and the overabundance of weather-based supervillians?"

 

"Oh, you haven't heard yet?" Gandra asked, catching his attention from the state of worry he was descending into.

 

"Heard what?"

 

She pulled out her phone, flipping it to offer him a view of the screen. A browser was opened to a news article with the headline: " **Duckberg's Newest Hero** ?  _ Darwing Duck, an old show or the newest defender of the night?" _

 

Fenton was quick to take the phone, skimming through the article rapidly in amazement. "A new hero in Duckberg?"

 

Gandra watched him with a smile, grabbing his computer chair and settling onto it backwards, resting her arms on top of the backrest. "Yeah, looks like someone thought you weren't enough anymore. Or thought they could do better." She egged goodnaturedly.

 

"This is..." He whispered as he reached the end of the article looking up and across the room blankly. Gandra sat up a little straighter at the reaction, worry filling her eyes. "This is wonderful!" He shouted, leaping to his feet, smiling widely and beginning to bounce with excitement.

 

She slumped back into a more comfortable position, rolling her eyes and chuckling softly.

 

"Darkwing Duck! Finally there will be someone else to help protect the city while I'm recovering from injuries or-or while I'm working at the lab or if I just need a break! This is incredible! I'll have to thank him if we ever cross paths-- do you think we'll ever meet? Or get the chance to team-up!? I wonder how his fighting style is, if he uses gadgets like-like in the show or-or!" Fenton cut himself off with an elated chuckle, waving his hands with all the excitement built up in his body. He swung around to grin like a fool at Gandra.

 

She gently laid her chin on her folded arms and smiled back at him, chest swelling with warmth. "Maybe he's just some Darkwing nerd? I mean, I've never even heard of the show before now. You two might get along splendidly if he's just as dorky."

 

"You never heard of Darkwing Duck?" Fenton asked, freezing in surprise. "It's an old show and I never really watched it but I saw an episode every now-and-then. M'má didn't care much for his vigilantism."

 

She raised her brows. "And you still became vigilante superhero Gizmoduck. Incredible."

 

He shrugged, plopping down onto the edge of his bed. "I want to protect people, make things better, I never saw anything wrong with that."

 

"Heart of gold to go along with the cyborg suit. Seems fitting." She laughed, voice swelling with adoration.

 

Fenton flushed and the two just looked at each other for a long moment, something electric filling the space and passing between them.

 

Gandra broke the eye contact first, smile falling bit by bit before she finally turned and looked away, pressing a palm to her cheek. The tension in the air thickened and Fenton felt his smile follow and he too looked away.

 

After Fenton's babbling rant in the hospital and Gandra's reassurance in regards to it , they had both been left up in the air over the state of their relationship.

 

She had kissed him the night she left, but did that really mean anything? His fingers touched his beak in remembrance of it. Could it have just been the heat of the moment, the feelings and tension built up then, driving her to that?

 

... What did he want from her?

 

It was already so clear to him and now her that she meant so much to him, that he was desperate for the understanding she offered him. Did he want more than that? His dreams suggested that, yes, he did. The repetitive theme of their 'dates', although unintentional each time, shared the same answer. Did he-- was he...?

 

His eyes slowly trailed back to her, looking over her face, so full of confidence and intelligence wrapped in her beautiful, calm demeanor.

 

His heart thumped harder.

 

How could someone not fall in love with her?

 

The sound of the front door slamming open startled him from his thoughts. "Pollito, are you home?" M'má called into the house, tone hopeful.

 

"In my room, M'má!" Fenton called back, rubbing a hand over the unique texture of his cast. His M'má appeared in the doorway not a second later, rushing over and wrapping Fenton in a tight embrace.

 

"Oh my sweet Fentonito, I missed you so much! It's so wonderful to have you safe at home again!" The Officer gushed, pulling back to squish her son's cheeks affectionately. Fenton flushed in embarrassment and pulled away, glancing over her shoulder.

 

"M'má please, not while Gandra--." Gandra wasn't there though. His computer chair was spinning slowly but she was nowhere to be seen.

 

There was the distinct sound of the front door closing following his realization. Then his phone dinged with a text, from her.

 

**Gandra Dee** :  _ Catch up with your Mom, I'll call you later /Fentonito/ _

 

Fenton blushed fiercer and shook his head, smiling. When he looked back up at his M'má though, his smile fell.

 

She stood there having backed a step away from him, with her arms crossed over her chest staring down at him, expression conflicted. She seemed to be trying hard to keep her expression level and hard, but the crease in her brow gave her concern away.

 

Fenton had seen this look before. He frowned, brows knitted with worry. He spoke carefully. "What is it, M'má?"

 

"Fenton, my darling mijo, I need to talk to you about... that girl."

 

His body ran cold. "... Gandra? What do you mean?"

 

He watched as his mother took a deep breath, moving closer to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. "... A week ago, when you had her over and things went... poorly, I decided to look into her history at work."

 

Fenton sat up straighter, brows furrowing as he voiced his objection. "M'má! That's not necessary and an absolute invasion of her privacy!"

 

"I did it because I was worried for you, mijo! And either way, it's already done." She retorted instantly, matching his volume. He pressed his mouth in a hard line, falling silent.

 

"She has a record, past vandalism and harassment charges and several reports over her inventions getting out of control." M'má explained slowly.

 

Fenton could feel his feathers bristle all over his body. "... For what?"

 

M'má scoffed. "Does it matter? Fenton she--"

 

"Charges for what exactly, M'má?" He interrupted sharply, staring down into his lap where he fiddled with his fingers.

 

She was quiet for a long moment, looking at him, trying to gauge his reaction better. "... The vandalism is for several incidents of graffiti-ing billboards, all featuring anyone too high up in her opinion. People like McDuck, Glomgold, and Beaks." Fenton flinched at the name. 

 

"The harassment charges are from accounts where she sent specially modified packages to various CEOs throughout Duckberg. They were glitter bombs she engineered to stain everything the glitter touched, clothes, feathers, fur,  _ skin _ , mijo do you understand? She's some kind of anarchist!" She went on, pressing her point further and further, trying to make him understand.

 

"I have a report of her being evicted from an apartment building because she infested the building with little robot bugs, think of the damage she could do with her inve--"

 

"It was an accident!" Fenton interrupted again, much sharper and much louder than before. His hands were curled into fists, pressed hard against his knees.

 

M'má rocked back, eyes wide and brows arched high. "An accident, Fenton? An accident! Was everything else an accident? Specifically targeting authority figures and causing issues for so many people?"

 

In one swift move, Fenton was on his feet, whipping around to glower at his M'má, shaking as he did so. "So?" He shouted. "M'má, she saved me! She was the reason I didn't bleed out in an alleyway and that I'm here right now!"

 

Gloria tried to take in a breath, tried to steady herself before replying. "She is dangerous, Fenton! A potential hazard to society and you! I don't want her putting dangerous ideas into your head, mijo! So I'm asking you now, don't see her again."

 

Fenton felt his heart stop, then burn hotter than he ever felt before. He heard his own voice before he even realized he was speaking.

 

"...No."

 

M'má stood from the bed, facing her boy as he stared right back, challenging her.

 

"What was that?" 

 

In that instant, he burned hotter than lava and something in him just snapped. "I said no. I like Gandra, I like her a lot! A-and she likes me for  _ me _ !  Do you have any idea how it feels to finally find someone like her? Someone who understands me like she does? And now you're going to tell me to never speak to her again?! I won't do it!"

 

Officer Cabrera narrowed her eyes, spreading her arms in bewilderment. "Fenton, what do you mean? I understand you!"

 

" _ No you don't! _ " He shot back in a scream, the words shocking him as they seemed to come from deep within his heart. The emotional tirade had started and now he couldn't seem to stop it. "You never have! You may support me and my interest in science but you have never understood me! And she does!"

 

M'má took in a sharp breath, before pressing further, pointing over Fenton's shoulder in the direction of the front door, where Gandra was last. "What if she corrupts you! Turns you into some anarchist criminal just like she is! Convinces you you're some sort of vigilante like that rolling trash can Gizmoduck!"

 

He was a supernova barely contained in his skin, no control of his tongue, nothing stopping him. No fear, no future, just white hot fury.

 

**_"I AM GIZMODUCK!"_ **

 

In an instant M'má fell silent, staring wide-eyed at Fenton as he stood there, shaking with rage, tears springing to his eyes with the violent torrent of emotions. And he realized that he didn't want to be there anymore.

 

So, without a word, he turned and left, slamming the front door shut behind him.

 

But he didn't know where to go from there. He went to the first place he thought of on instinct, the Money Bin, the laboratory, a place of science where he felt safe.

 

By the time he got there, he felt like he was melting inside, white hot rage eating away at him. His shaking wouldn't stop and the tears just got worse, building on his water-lines thickly. It was starting to sink in, everything that just transpired, what his M'má had said and what  _ he  _ had said. 

 

When he tried to enter the lab, Gyro intercepted him, quick to tell him to leave, to rest his injury another day or so while he enjoyed the quiet. Fenton tried to push the matter, asked to stay but Gyro was having none of it.

 

"Look at you, you look like you're in pain. Go home, rest, take your pain meds or I won't let you use the Gizmosuit for an extra month." He implored, edging on something like concern.

 

Fenton was a sight at that point, and pain was an accurate guess of his expression. He didn't push any further, didn't explain the situation, didn't feel like talking anymore.

 

So he left. He wanted to go somewhere, somewhere quiet, somewhere he felt safe.

 

He pulled out his phone, ignoring the messages from his M'má, and instead dialing the contact number he seemed to be using more and more frequently lately. His hands shook as he raised the phone to his ear.

 

"... G-Gandra... Can-- I'm sorry, can I come over?"


	8. Chapter 8

By the time he reached her apartment, Fenton felt hollow inside. The molten anger that had filled him up just half an hour ago had melted through his feet and spilled out of him during his long walk, leaving him feeling seared and empty inside.

 

Gandra ushered him inside the moment she laid her eyes on his empty expression.

 

"What happened?" She asked, voice soft, leading him to sit on the edge of her bed. She took her rolling chair instead. Fenton quietly noted the safety goggles sat up on her head and grease stains on her arms. She must have been tinkering before he arrived.

 

He didn't speak, didn't feel like speaking, just looked at the floor and shrugged.

 

"You don't have to tell me, you can stay here for as long as you need to." She assured after the silence lingered too long.

 

He didn't make a sound, just nodded slowly.

 

Gandra pursed her beak and turned away instead, pulling her goggles back down over her eyes. She didn't know what else to do, if there was anything she could do, so she buried herself back into her current project instead, giving Fenton space.

 

She picked up her needles, peering back into her microscope and delving into the circuitry of a Nanite.

 

She stopped suddenly and placed the tools down again, turning to her friend once more. He held his hands in his lap, fingers twitching restlessly, the only part of him with movement. A grin spread her face.

 

She grabbed the nearest screwdriver and kicked away from her workbench, rolling in her chair over to him, stopping in front of him. She grabbed his hand and placed the screwdriver there, closing his fingers around the tool.

 

He blinked down at the item in his hand, before raising the same questioning stare to Gandra's face. She smiled at him, raising a brow in return.

 

"Work helps me when I feel like crap. I know it's not like your fancy lab but maybe you can find something to tinker with here." She suggested, standing and pulling him from the bed and over the the other side of her workbench. Gadget pieces of every shape and size littered the surface, plenty to choose from.

 

She released his hand then and slowly backed away, watching as his eyes swept over the tools at his disposal. He could shake his head and choose to sit down again and she wouldn't argue, but she hoped maybe this would help.

 

Finally, his hands moved forward, gripping around strange baubles and simple tools.

 

Gandra let out a relieved breath, smiling at the sight and returning to her own work with one less weight on her mind.

 

They remained like that for who knows how long, the only sound filling the space was the occasional scrape of metal and the sound of their breathing.

 

"... M'má looked up your record at work. She's a police officer." Fenton's voice cut through the silence, startling Gandra from her concentrated work. She glanced at him sideways, feeling a spike of defensiveness crawling up her back.

 

"Yeah?" Her voice was level.

 

Fenton wasn't looking at her, focused on his own work on his side of the counter. His expression didn't even change and it was almost like he hadn't actually spoke. "She told me you have past charges. Things like vandalism and harassment."

 

Gandra focused back on the tools in her hands, holding them still now. "I do. Did she tell you why?"

 

Fenton nodded. "Graffiti and glitter bombs sent to CEOs."

 

She hummed in agreement. "I'd say it was a little more than 'graffiti, but that's the jist of it." She paused, turning to look at him again. He still hadn't moved. "... What do you think of what she told you?"  _What do you think of me?_

She reached for her headphones around her neck, grasping only empty air. Right, she had broken them. No comfort, no security.

 

She felt strangely naked.

 

Fenton was quiet for a long moment. "What did they do?"

 

That brought a chuckle bubbling to her chest. "Well the glitter bombs were only for the CEOs that took pay-cuts for their employees and lavished themselves with the extra money somehow. Some bought cars, some bought dumb elitist stuff for their offices, others used the money under the table for some things. Bad things. As rare as they were, if you look into the reports any actually proper CEO, not hoarding wealth from their employees, weren't targeted. The graffiti was information. Billboards boasting about overly-rich bastards like Glomgold, I covered in facts about the disgusting way they treat their employees and their poor services."

 

She sneered as she spoke, remembering the acts and feeling herself swell with pride. "I may have broken the law, sure, but I don't regret any of it. It was direct action and it at least made someone out there take a moment and think. That's all I wanted to accomplish."

 

She turned to look at Fenton again, looking for his reaction. She was shocked to see the edge of his bill turned up in a smile. His voice held the air of an unspoken laugh. "And  _I'm_  the vigilante?"

 

Gandra snorted in response, reaching out and shoving against his shoulder playfully. "Shut up, Gizmo-loser."

 

His smile fell again all at once and Gandra froze, instantly regretting getting overly playful so soon before she knew if he was okay again.

 

"I told my M'má." He stated blankly and she was struck with confusion. Finally, he turned, eyes climbing up to meet her own stare, shadowed and red. "I was angry. She told me not to talk to you again, that you'd turn me into a criminal. A vigilante like Gizmoduck."

 

His breath caught for a moment, but he cleared his throat quickly. "So I... I told her that I am Gizmoduck."

 

Gandra's head swam in that moment, filling with the whirlpool of information she'd just received. That his M'má tried to police Fenton, keep him from her and yet here he was. That his M'má thought she was someone who needed to stay away from her son. Someone who was a bad influence. And he argued against her.

 

He told her who he was. Somehow she didn't know already.

 

"Oh, Fenton..." She breathed out, flickering through her thoughts rapid-fire, but focusing on him in this moment instead.

 

He just shrugged and turned away. "I know I upset her but... This is who I am and she was bound to find out eventually. I just need some space away from her until I know what I could possibly say to her next."

 

"... Thank you for letting me come here."

 

Her chest filled with warmth, a pang striking right through the middle. She swallowed thickly past the rising ball in her throat.

 

"... You know, I'm not actually the most touchy person... But if you--" She was cut off as Fenton practically threw himself against her, burying his face into her shoulder and hugging her tightly. She could feel the shuddering breaths he took.

 

Gently, her hands settled around him in return, petting against his feathers and drawing comforting circles against his back. She smiled weakly, heart hurting in response to the desperation in his clinging.

 

"Yeah, yeah Suit... Get it out while you can." She joked, prodding him with a smile. Like she didn't relish the physical contact herself.

 

He made no sound but his chest still shuddered with each breath. She tipped her head to press against his.

 

"... Your mother was missing something you know. A significant fact." She spoke finally, letting her eyes fall closed and relishing in the soft feeling of his hair against her cheek.

 

Fenton stilled. "... Mm?"

 

Her smile widened. "Maybe I'm a bad influence, I don't know... But did she consider that instead  _you're_  a good influence on  _me_?"

 

She felt the shudder leave his body, and she felt accomplished in that moment.

 

"... made you something."

 

Gandra's eyes opened again as he pulled away, moving back to what he had been working on. "What?"

 

"I made you something." He clarified, scooping up his work into his hands.

 

"You made me something? We're trading special gifts now? Unfair, I don't even have anything for you." She teased, crossing her arms over her chest and smirking at the duck as he returned to her.

 

Her heart skipped a beat when he looked up at her and smiled, eyes still red-rimmed but clear and focused now.

 

"Just a thank-you gift." He assured, presenting his hands and the item that laid in them.

 

There, was a sleek, white pair of headphones. Gandra's throat closed.

 

She slowly, hesitantly reached out and took the device from him, looking over the creation with eyes full of awe.

 

"It's wireless, and can pair with your device after syncing just once. Then, if you play music on your phone and press the button on the side, it'll click over to your headphones like that." He explained with a sharp snap of his fingers. "More reliable that connecting through Bluebeak and wont disconnect through distance or a stronger signal. So you can listen uninterrupted no matter what situation until you turn it off yourself."

 

He hesitated, then finished the explanation with, "I noticed you don't have your headphones anymore." He pointed vaguely to his neck. 

 

Gandra stared down at them in wonderment still, silent as a statue. The outer shell was white with stylish lines streaking through the blankness, reminiscent of Gizmoduck's armor. On the side she could see there were even dials to adjust the bass and treble. He'd put everything into making this for her. Headphones that weren't Waddle brand, something that instead linked her to Gizmoduck-- to Fenton himself.

 

He'd fixed something she'd broken.

 

She moved finally, pulled them on around her neck. They filled the empty space there, feeling like they were meant to rest there all along. Her hands gripped the ear cups and she felt warm, washed over with comfort.

 

She smiled, corner of her mouth trembling.

 

"I love them, thank you Fenton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blue beak is Bluetooth in the Ducktales universe, I made it up.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOO-WEE Y'ALL that season 2 finale was WILD, right? So, of course, do to this new information it's clear that this story is now /technically/ canon divergent. Which it kind of was all along but I want to make sure it's established now for a few reasons, but mostly because of the M'ma scene. Of course, the story will explore this more later but the short of it is that OUR M'ma was actually on the verge of finding out by herself and had specific suspicions of Fenton's involvement with Gizmoduck, but didn't quite know he WAS Gizmoduck yet. Again this will be explored more later.
> 
> For now, look, I'm here with a new chapter that I hope you all love!! Have fun!!
> 
>  
> 
> Oh, and in case you were wondering, don't worry. I have an idea for incorporating the new information we've learned about Gandra >:3c

"You hungry, Suit?"

 

Fenton looked up curiously, watching Gandra slip on the jacket typically kept tied around her waist, goggles shelved away and grease marks cleaned. She smiled at him and nodded her head towards the door of her flat. "Come on, I know a good place. Best hotdogs in Duckberg."

 

"Oh, uh..." He subconsciously moved a hand over his stomach and came to the realization that he was actually hungry, he had just been too distracted to notice. "Yeah, that sounds great!"

 

And just like that, they were quickly walking out of her apartment building and down the street together. "Hope you don't mind a walk. I don't drive much honestly. At all."

 

He shook his head. "No, I don't mind. It's nice to stretch my legs every now and then." He watched as she lifted a hand out of her jacket pocket to caress the ear cup of her new headphones. She smiled absently, humming her agreement, and he was lost in a wash of warmth spilling from his chest.

 

The walk wasn't especially long, but it did take them into the parts of the city Fenton was mostly unfamiliar with, aside from Ma Beagle's nearby junkyard. Stranger still, the deeper in they went, the more often people called out to greet Gandra. This part of Duckberg was generally considered part of the slums, the people calling out to them wearing messy clothes and harboring hard looks until recognizing Gandra. One kid they passed was sitting on the roof of a completely stripped car, wearing nothing more than a dirty white tank-top and tattered shorts, both a size too big for his scrawny form. He narrowed his eyes at Fenton but shouted joyfully for "Sissy Dee's" attention. In fact, everyone that had called out to them thus far had called Gandra, 'Dee'.

 

"Chill out, Suit. They can smell weakness." She teased, pushing lightly against his shoulder before turning into a small diner that Fenton would have missed completely without her lead. He chuckled nervously and followed.

 

The inside was as equally impressive as the outside; that is to say, not very. It was nearly empty in the diner, lit by a few dim bulbs and many more dull ones. The tiles underfoot had cracks in them and the only noise in the building was the sizzle of the distant kitchen, and the unrecognizable tunes playing overhead. Gandra swung into a booth, unfettered, and Fenton followed.

 

"Hey Gordan! I'm gonna need two hotdogs out here, pronto!" She called suddenly, cupping a hand around her beak. Fenton flinched at the sudden noise, but collected himself again quickly, turning to the kitchen divider door as a loud clamoring echoed from there.

 

"Dee, is that you?" Called back a gruff voice, followed closely by a large male dog pushing through the kitchen door. Gandra waved to him, leaning back leisurely in her seat.

 

"The one and only."

 

In an instant the cook's(Gordan, Fenton assumed) mouth spread into a wide smile and he was at their booth in the blink of an eye. "Well if it ain't the big shot herself! How's uptown life been treatin' ya so far? Socked any of them punk elitists in the face yet?"

 

Gandra chuckled and rolled her eyes. "If I had, do you think I'd be here right now? Like those capitalists would let me get away with that just yet."

 

Gordan waved his hand dismissively. "Psh, just figured you'd escaped with your skills!" With that said he guffawed loudly, slapping a hand against the table. "Just remember ta' give 'em a good right hook for old Gordie, yeah?"

 

Gandra snorted. "You got it, Gordan."

 

Suddenly, the man seemed to look over and just notice Fenton sat there, letting out a loud grunt of intrigue. "Ah, and who do we have here?"

 

Fenton was struck silent under the man's gaze, stature intimidating but not more intimidating than the idea of his deep connection to Gandra. Family? Friend? Past boyfriend? Whatever their connection, he was shaken to finally have the attention on him, not prepared yet. He opened his beak, taking in a sharp breath and--

 

"Fellow scientist and good friend of mine, Fenton. I had to bring him in to get a taste of your hotdogs." Gandra answered easily, drawing the attention back to her in an instant. Fenton breathed out in relief, heart stuttering for only a moment at the words 'good friend'.

 

Gordan was pleased, smiling from ear to ear at the mere mention of his cooking. "A wonderful choice too! I'll getcha both one, quick as a whip!" And with that, he lumbered back into the kitchen. Gandra's eyes turned on her table-mate and she shrugged.

 

"That's Gordan. Great cook but a bit too excitable." She explained.

 

"He seems nice-." Fenton began only for her to cut him off with a laugh.

 

"That's cause he likes  _ me _ . He wouldn't be nearly as chummy if it was anyone else." She paused. "Excellent food though."

 

Fenton shrunk back in his seat, thinking over everything that had transpired to this very moment. He felt frazzled inside and had questions. His eyes flicked up, watching as she pulled out her phone and started idly tapping the screen. Well... He might as well ask them.

 

"The people here all seem to know you. Do you come here often?"

 

She looked up from her phone in surprise, then set it aside. "Sort of? I grew up in this neighborhood, till I was a teenager at least. Otherwise I just come and visit the old nesting grounds a lot."

 

"Gotcha. And... Dee?" He raised a brow at that and she chuckled.

 

"Yeah, childhood nickname. Everyone here calls me Dee." She explained, leaning her head into her hand and looking out of the window wistfully.

 

Fenton hesitated, just lost in watching her in that moment. "... Would you like me to call you Dee instead?"

 

He watched as she turned towards him, eyes wide in surprise, blue orbs searching his expression for a long, quiet moment before she finally settled into an almost shy smile. "...No. I like when you call me Gandra."

 

Something warm traveled up his neck at that, the sight of her, the softness of her voice and the way she said that single sentence, like she cherished the way he spoke her name. The feeling spread up into his cheeks, the feathers there rising in a soft ruffle. He breathed out, smile spreading across his beak.

 

"ORDER UP!"

 

Fenton jumped, bringing his hands to his face to smooth down his cheek feathers in a hurry as Gordan swept towards their booth laden with a platter. He dished out two cardboard food boats, filled to the brim with fries and topped with a precariously placed hotdog in a bun. The fries glistened with grease in the low light.

 

"I just gotta ask, Dee. Was you the one who broke this poor fella's arm?" Fenton blinked up at Gordan after observing the food presented to him, watching as the big man leaned against Gandra's side of the booth, eyeing Fenton's cast with a raised brow and a wry smile. "Sort of a... 'Science gone wrong' situation, was it?"

 

Gandra laughed, popping a fry into her mouth without a second thought. "Me? No no, Fenton here can get into all sorts of trouble all by himself, including breaking bones. No, see, I'm actually the one who makes sure he's not dead yet." She explained, to which Fenton couldn't hold back a snort.

 

"Says the bird who freely chooses to experiment on herself, disregarding all sense of caution and self-preservation." He shot back on instinct, collecting the hotdog into his hand before realizing he had just stood toe-to-toe with Gandra, in front of a long-time friend who might take it the wrong way. Gordan was a wildcard, Fenton didn't know how close he was to Gandra, or how protective he might be of her.

 

Of how against the stranger that was Fenton, and his teasing, he might be.

 

"GAHAHAHA!" The chef burst out into raucous laughter that made Fenton jump in his skin, before settling down again forcefully and choking on a gasp taken in far too sharply. 

 

"Looks like ya found one that ain't afraid to mouth back at you, huh Dee? Good for you." Gordan congratulated, patting Gandra on the shoulder briefly. "Now I better get back to the kitchen an' leave you two alone. Normally I'd tell ya to go easy on him, but it looks like that won't be necessary this time around." He finished, turning around as he burst into another fit of laughter, this time at his own words. Fenton watched him walk back through the double doors.

 

Gandra scoffed softly, rolling her eyes with a smile. "Whatever, Squash."

 

Fenton turned his attention back towards Gandra, trying to hide what remained of his frazzled nerves, and raised a brow momentarily. "Squash?"

 

Gandra waved her hand flippantly. "Gordon, Gordie, Gourd, Squash. Him being a cook is an added bonus." She explained her thought process, to which Fenton let out an intrigued hum.

 

They fell into a comfortable silence then, and Fenton began looking over her features idly as she ate. He was filling with warmth slowly, brimming through his chest in waves and waves, lapping over each other and bringing a more peaceful sensation than the last. He felt calm here, surrounded by the scent of food, the buzz of the overhead lights and distant sound of the kitchen; in the presence of Gandra Dee. 

 

Gandra Dee, with her lovely brown bob, enchantingly intelligent blue eyes, and the distinct sharpness of her wit; with her friendly criticisms and companionable teasing that captured him so completely.

 

In this moment, with her, he felt...

 

"I like this." He spoke, voice soft, almost under his breath, to himself. Almost.

 

Gandra looked up from her food, eyes locking with his for just a moment before he looked away again in embarrassment.

 

Still, he was drawn back to her the second she chuckled. His heart leapt in his chest when he was met with her smile.

 

"I like this too."

 

He could feel his chest pounding harder at her words, the weight that they carried with them, the returned feeling of warmth and contentment.

 

And yet, with that feeling came a small spark of familiarity.

 

He remembered when she'd said something like that before, and the memory made his stomach sink a little.

 

But also brought a question to mind.

 

"You've said that before... That night, you said it." His voice was low, hesitant, and he focused instead on proceeding to eat his hotdog.

 

"Which night, Suit? We've spent a handful of them together at this point."

 

Fenton sputtered at that, catching the smirk on Gandra's face, paired nicely with the mischievous glint in her eye. 

 

"D-don't say it like that! That makes it sound different!"

 

Gandra just laughed impishly. "What? We only slept together."

 

" _ Gandra! _ " Fenton's cheek feathers were fluffed up to twice their size and he could feel the skin beneath burning in embarrassment as Gandra only laughed harder. 

 

She waved him off lazily, settling down from her laughing fit. "Alright, alright, I'll stop. Don't get your feathers ruffled."

 

Fenton dragged a hand over his hot face, taking a nip of his food to buy himself the time he needed to calm down again.

 

To her credit, Gandra waited patiently. It almost made up for her teasing at his expense.

 

Finally, he laid his hand against the table, staring at the patterns in the wood polish beneath. "I mean  _ that _ night. Our first date."

 

Gandra stilled across from him. He watched her from the edge of his vision. "...oh."

 

"Before I... Confronted you, you said you weren't so sure about me but you 'liked this'."

 

The space between them was increasing, filling with the thick silence of unspoken thoughts.

 

"... Yes?" She prompted further, voice quieter than before.

 

Fenton's eyes flicked to her face finally, taking in her expression. There was a lot to take in there, as she sat rigid, staring through the half-eaten hotdog, brows stitched together in something a little like worry, and a little like regret. She was agonizing over her choices again, regretting what she had done that night. But that's not why Fenton brought it up again.

 

"Did you mean it?" He breathed out finally, feeling like there was a vice grip around his heart, anticipating her answer with a tight hold.

 

Gandra blinked in surprise, looking up at him as the swirl of emotions from just a moment ago all washed away. After a beat, she broke into a smile and bunched her shoulders up in a small shrug.

 

"Yeah... I did."

 

Fenton's heart flipped beneath his ribcage. He smiled back, the air of a laugh entering his voice. "Oh? And when exactly did I become more than just a mission, huh?" He teased, having not expected an actual answer.

 

To his surprise, he got one.

 

"I think it was after you showed me your Fentonium actually." Gandra mused, taking a sip of her drink. 

 

Fenton's eyebrows shot up in surprise for a moment, and he had to collect himself again before answering.

 

"O-oh? So my scientific endeavours charmed you, eh?" His tone was teasing again, but his voice and confidence wavered from that blow to his heart. He could feel his chest thundering beneath his feathers.

 

"No, don't get me wrong, your equation for Fentonium,  _ a whole new element _ , is incredible; but that's not what did the trick. It was your passion, actually." She spoke, casting her gaze off in wistful remembrance.

 

"The way your spoke, your excitement for your inventions, it was a complete turn around from the nervous wreck you had been just earlier. You weren't concerned with impressing me anymore, you were just lost in the joy of science. And I could see it in your eyes."

 

Slowly, Gandra turned back to him, eyes travelling languidly from the window until the moment they reached him. Her cheek feathers were raised.

 

"So yeah, that's when."

 

Fenton was awestruck, sitting there as still, and as quiet as a statue, staring at her. His feathers were a mess all across his cheeks and neck, ruffled up as big as they could go, skin underneath blazing hot. For a long moment, he wasn't even sure he remembered to breath.

 

To get such a heartfelt answer from his teasing jokes... Gandra truly knew how to leave him feeling weak in the knees and electric all over.

 

Gandra blinked a few times, cheek feathers fluctuating in size as she coughed into her fist, breaking eye-contact. "So, how's your hotdog?"

 

Fenton's eyes slowly dragged down to the hotdog in his hand, lingering on Gandra until the very last second. He smiled something small and heartfelt.

 

"Best in town."

 

-

 

When they finally left the diner, after a promise to Gordan to spread the word, they started the trek back to her apartment with only one pit stop.

 

"I'll be right back." Gandra called behind her as she disappeared into a rinky-dink little art supply shop. Fenton waited quietly, watching the orange painted clouds overhead as the sun slowly set in the distance.

 

When she reemerged, she triumphantly held up a little tube of red acrylic paint. "For my headphones. You missed something."

 

"I did?" Fenton asked, genuinely taken aback by this statement. He scanned his mental blueprints quickly, going over the process of building the device for Gandra just hours earlier. He didn't  _ think  _ he forgot anything...

 

Gandra nodded though and tapped her chest. "Gizmo's logo. The headphones look like his armor but you missed the perfect chance to add the logo."

 

"Oh, no, that's actually Gyro's signature. All of his inventions have that little insignia somewhere on or in them. Like Lil Bulb's is on the back of his microchip. The 'G' is for Gearloose." Fenton explained, motioning back and forth with his hands idly as he spoke.

 

Not that he wasn't very flattered by the implication that she wanted to wear his insignia(whether it was actually his insignia or not).

 

Gandra hummed in return, thinking over Fenton's words before finally shaking her head. "No, not anymore. I mean sure it can mean Gearloose on any other invention, but not the suit. That 'G' stands proudly against your chest, giving people hope and a name to call their hero. That 'G'? That one stands for Gizmoduck, and no one else."

 

He stared after her in stunned silence, giving thought to her small speech. Her tone was so certain, so sure, that Fenton felt like he could really believe that.

 

A pleasant warmth spread through his chest and he smiled to himself. She sounded like a real hero just then.

 

"Eugh, hanging around you is bad for me. Now I'm starting to make those mushy, "pure-of-heart" heroic speeches, too." She tweaked her fingers in place of parentheses around her words; she was smiling though, casting a mischievous side-eye at Fenton to see if she got to ruffle his feathers.

 

He just smiled wider and shook his head, the warm feeling spreading to the tips of his fingers and toes.

 

"What can I say? They're inspiring."

 

Gandra just rolled her eyes. "Inspiring me to jump off a dock maybe."

 

Fenton cracked a smile when she caught him off-guard by turning suddenly, tapping a hand against his chest, brows furrowed. "And if it only stands for Gearloose, then what about the 'D'?" She snapped out conspiratorially, like she was about crack open this whole case.

 

What the case was in the first place is what Fenton was thrust into suddenly trying to understand.

 

"Wh-what?" He muttered, mind running a mile a minute in an instant, trying to decipher what she meant.

 

"The 'D'! When you flip the logo, like in a mirror, it makes a 'D'. 'G' 'D' for Gizmoduck, I thought! Was that not intentional?" Gandra gesticulated wildly, trying to make her point. "Unless it's been  _ Geardloose _ this entire time."

 

That last thought is what made Fenton break into a snort of amusement, clasping a hand over his face. "I'm sorry, did you just say  _ Geardloose _ ?" He clarified, smile wide.

 

"Well the 'D' has to fit somewhere." Gandra insisted and Fenton held back an immature joke that came to his mind like a knee-jerk reaction. 

 

Instead he offered, "Wouldn't Gyro Dearloose make more sense? That way it has the 'G' and the 'D'."

 

Gandra scrunched her beak in mock dissatisfaction. "Don't critique my verbal shitpost."

 

Fenton chuckled at that and Gandra broke and joined him after a moment of pretending to pout. He shook his head, silence falling around them again while they continued to walk.

 

It was a comfortable, soft sort of silence though. The kind that fills the room when you're in your favorite chair, curled up to enjoy a story. Atmosphere brimming with thoughts just below the surface, unreachable to anyone but you.

 

Fenton felt full inside, and not from the hotdog either. This feeling left his chest feeling full and warm.

 

"... With the little mark at the bottom it looks more like a 'P' than a 'D'." Fenton spoke up, visualizing it in his head. "Gearploose."

 

The air broke with the sound of their laughter, voices carried away into the orange painted sky.

 

Whether or not she would admit it, in that moment, they were both full.

 

-

 

It didn't take long to finally reach Gandra's apartment again. When Fenton stepped into the lobby of the building, he had a moment where he stopped and realized that, already, so quickly, he was filled with the feeling of coming home. Sure, he still had to get used to his surroundings, the building, Gandra's flat and her furniture- but that wasn't what gave him the feeling of home.

 

It could very well be the distinct comfort he found in science and scientific equipment that was bringing on these feelings of comfort.

 

(Or maybe it was that he wasn't alone. That he was with someone who was making this place feel like home.)

 

He shook his thoughts away, tucking them into the back of his mind to analyze later(likely when he was trying to fall asleep next), and followed Gandra once more, watching as she turned and began walking backwards to talk to him on the way to her front door.

 

"You know, Suit, this is like the third or fourth accidental date we've been on. I mean we went out to eat, walked home in the sunset, you're walking me to my door-- it's like a shitty romcom."

 

Fenton startled at that, feeling his cheek feathers rise slightly in a blush. He ignored the feeling and instead raised an eyebrow. "I like romantic comedies."

 

Gandra rolled her eyes with a lopsided smirk. "Why am I not surprised?" She mumbled before raising her voice again to continue her train of thought. "They're so  _ predictable _ though! I mean, all that needs to happen next is a kiss goodni--!"

 

"Gandra!" Fenton rushed forward in a panic the moment Gandra's heel skidded against the floor wrong, leaving her to suddenly cut herself off as she tipped backwards.

 

Without the help of both of his arms, all Fenton could manage to do was wrap his good arm around Gandra's waist, pressing with the weight and momentum of his body against hers, and force the two of them forward, against the apartment door where she had no room to fall backwards anymore.

 

This action did, however, leave the two of them pressed together against the door, her body pinning his arm around her lower back. All he could do was stare into her eyes as he tried to steady his breathing, heart pounding erratically in his ears at the sudden adrenaline rush and body rapidly heating up as the situation dawned on him. He swallowed, opening his bill to stutter out apologizes rapid-fire while Gandra stood unmoving, staring back at him with big beautiful blue eyes wide with surprise, cheek feathers rising to frame them perfectly.

 

"Oh my gosh, oh, oh Gandra I- I'm so sorry, you were falling, I-- are- are you okay? You're, m-my arm, you--." He faltered, unable to keep his eyes from flickering down to her beak, then back to her eyes in an instant. They were so close, he could feel her breath against his face and it was quickly becoming quite the distraction. His heart beat harder, sunbursts in his veins.

 

"I-I, you just-- and I didn't want you to--." His jumbled up words were silenced. 

 

So suddenly her hands were cupping his face, leading beak to press against beak roughly; pressing, pulling into him, needfully trapping him in a paradise by the name of Gandra Dee.

 

Fenton let out a weak whimper, skin flashing hot all over his body, feathers rising in response. He realized he wasn't kissing her back yet, why wasn't he kissing her back yet? His head felt fuzzy and he couldn't find a reason why he wasn't.

 

So he did, heart pounding so hard he was sure she had to feel it in the spot where she looped her arms around his neck, thumb caressing his pulse; in their chests, still pressed together against the door.

 

She felt like heaven, and he wanted to be her acolyte.

 

Her hands were moving, searching but he was too lost in the feeling of her mouth on his to wonder what they searched for, until the moment they found purchase in his hair. Her grip tightened only barely and Fenton broke from her to moan low, raking his pinned hand down her back.

 

He felt her body arch against him, heard her gasp tightly, pulling forth an aching from deep inside him.

 

They locked eyes, each hazy and panting for air lost in their embrace.

 

The room was electric around them, a nearly palpable pressure pushing against their feathers, drawing them closer still. They were silent save for their soft gasps.

 

Then Gandra moved quickly, diving her hand into her pocket to rip out her keys in a rush, turning and expertly unlocking the deadbolt in a swift move. The door flew open behind her and she wasted no time grabbing Fenton by the collar of his jacket and pulling him inside and against her again, catching his beak in another heart stopping kiss.

 

Fenton managed to kick the door shut behind them.

 

His hands were free now, and while he didn't have incredible maneuverability with his broken arm, his fingers were still sticking out of the cast-- he could still touch her, still feel her. Her waist, her hips, hands looping around to travel up her back at an agonizing pace, traversing the area between jacket and thin black shirt, reveling in the way she arched against his touch once more.

 

This time she pulled back, nearly breathless, but still with enough oxygen to--

 

" _ Ahhn _ ..." She moaned out quietly, almost shyly, and Fenton swore his heart stopped.

 

She was moving again, recovering quicker than him and reaching up to hastily push his jacket off of his shoulders to where it caught at his elbows, fingers treading in to loosen his tie with one hand. Fenton shivered when she tugged him closer by the accessory. "I-- I..." Fenton murmured intelligently, unsure what he was trying to say in the first place, just trying to vocalize this feeling.

 

Gandra was slipping off her jacket, leaving him entranced by the way the material slipped over her shoulders, leaving behind exposed skin and fluffed feathers. Fenton whined softly at the sight, a sound that escaped him only because she left him completely off guard.

 

Gandra chuckled, smiling up at him with flushed features and lidded eyes. She let her jacket fall to the ground around her and reached out to grab the edges of his own, still caught at his elbows. "Take your jacket off." She whispered, voice soft and clear that it was a request rather than an order. He followed to a T nonetheless, letting his jacket slip all the way off and drop to the floor with a--

 

Thunk?

 

Fenton startled at the unexpected noise before remembering that his phone was in his jacket pocket. He flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry, sorry, one second please."

 

Hastily he stooped down and fished his phone from his jacket, leaving the garment in a heap on the floor beside Gandra's. He rushed to the side table beside her bed, intending to set it down there to further ignore; safe but out of the way. Out of habit he looked down at the screen to quickly check his notifications when he stopped dead in his tracks.

 

He was currently receiving a call, having not realized sooner since he put his phone on silent to avoid his M'má's messages until he was ready to talk.

 

His M'má was not the one calling.

 

"... Fenton?" Gandra shifted behind him, noticing the sudden, dramatic change of atmosphere instantly. The way he stopped cold was enough of a tell, but in this light it almost seemed like his feathers were growing pale.

 

She moved closer slowly, tentatively reaching out to touch his shoulder. He flinched, but otherwise didn't react further. That was not a reassuring sign.

 

"Fenton, what's... wrong..." She began, but trailed off as she peered past his arm to look down at his phone screen as well.

 

The Caller ID read:  **Dr. Crackshell**

 

Gandra's eyes widened.

 

His thumb moved to accept the call and, almost robotically, he brought the phone to his ear, voice stiff and formal.

 

"H-Hello Sir."


End file.
